The Rose of a Beast
by Damian
Summary: The problem with life is that, contrary to popular belief, it doesn't end after marriage. Especially when someone has unknown enemies in his past that want revenge. Add to that a mysterious hero and a heroine who wants a fairy tale of her own...
1. Once upon a time

The Rose of a Beast

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Chapter 1 - The fairy tale begins

Once upon a time, there lived a merchant and his three daughters. He lived in a grand mansion in Paris, surrounded by the finest that society could offer. He was fabulously rich, wonderfully pleasant and eccentric enough to be interesting but not crazy enough to be locked up. His three daughters were the toast of society. The youngest was named Gabrielle and was praised for her angelic looks and sweet temperament. The second was named Jacqueline and she was renown for her knowledge and remarkable felicity of expression. The eldest was named Elizabeth and she was a combination of both her sisters. She was pretty, but she had not the ethereal, lovely looks of Gabrielle. She was smart, but she lacked Jacqueline's passion for learning. She was a dream weaver, a lover of stories and a teller of tales. She could keep the children bound under her spell from the beginning to the last words of Le Fin, the end. 

This is her story.

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"Father, are we there yet?" asked Gabrielle in a petulant voice. She was but sixteen and could be excused her tone. They had been riding hard since morning to find the village they were searching for. The wagon seats were hard and wooden, the horses were not the blood bays she was used to, but the stolid cart horse they had bought before they left their home forever. They were going to a small village in between Paris and Le Provence.

"Gabrielle, must you be so childish?" asked 18 year old Jacqueline with all the superiority that two years could give.

"Sorry Jacques, but I'm tired of this bumpy coach with it's stupid seats and stupid wood giving me stupid splinters and MERDE!"

The wagon had just hit a bump in the road.

"Gabrielle!" said Jacqueline, horrified, "Do not use such language in the presence of our good father. He will be most displeased."

"Mais non, Jacques, he merely sleeps on."

"Do not address me like that, my Christian name is Jacqueline and thus you will call me, sister dear."

"Jacqueline, Gabrielle, please stop," said Elizabeth quietly as she pulled on the reins to slow the horses. "We have nearly reached our new home and I really would prefer not to listen to you squabble incessantly."  
"We weren't squabbling" began Jacqueline hotly.

"Yes," came their father's good-natured voice from the opposite side of the cart, "you were. Now, it seems that we've reached our destination so if you three could kindly help me up so that we can unload this cart."

"Yes, Papa" said Gabrielle meekly.

The horses had reached a small house on the outskirts of quiet, little village. As the old merchant, whose name was Joseph, got down from the cart he heaved the four trunks off the cart. Jacqueline and Gabrielle stood in the cart, waiting for something.

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, mademoiselles, if you are waiting for the footman to come and help you down, I'm afraid you will remain in this carriage with its 'stupid wooden seats' for quite some time." She alighted easily from the wagon and grabbed hold of the largest trunk.

As Elizabeth slowly but surely dragged the trunk up the steps, first Gabrielle, then Jacqueline got down off the cart and their father took the horses to the small stable.

Once all the trunks were inside, Gabrielle sat down on one of the wooden chairs with a huff.

"It's so small! The entire house could fit into one room of our old Chateau." She said disdainfully.

"Gabby, Gabby, Gabby," said Elizabeth, shaking her head, "if we had our old Chateau in the city, we would not be saddle sore nor would Papa be so careworn. We would be rich and you would once again have the society of Paris fawning over you."

"Well, we're not in Paris," said Jacqueline. "And I, for one, am planning on making the best of the situation. She marched off into the other room to go and see what the stove was like.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

"Let her go, it's her way of handling the situation."

"Yes, but why can't she handle it without being snotty and overbearing?"

"Well, why can't you handle it without being whiny and immature?" asked Elizabeth playfully.

"Lizziiiiiiiiiiie!" said Gabrielle as she snatched up a nearby pillow and flung it at her eldest sister. Elizabeth ducked and it hit their father who was walking back in from stabling the new horses.

"What a welcome into my own home!" in said in mock anger.

"Sorry Papa," said Gabrielle as she tried to stifle giggles.

"Well girls, I have some interesting news, where's Jacqueline, by the way?" 

"Right here, Papa," she said as she wiped her hands on her apron and walked out of the kitchen.

"Ah, yes. Now, it seems that we've moved into a neighborhood legend, perhaps a fairy tale." Those last lines struck a chord in Lizzie's heart and she looked up with renewed interest.

"Ah, Lizzie, it seems I've grabbed your attention." Said her father with a smile,. He had been in a good mood ever since they had reached the village. But that was how Joseph was. He was always happy when doing something useful.

"Well, as the young man helping me with the horses, I believe his name was Claude, informed me, we are now living in a house that belonged to an insane, old inventor and his beautiful daughter Belle. About five years ago, both of then disappeared, only to return a week later with some bizarre story about a beast or animal in a castle, just through the woods. The town hero, a man named Gaston, took the men to go and find this beast, but they failed and came home empty handed. No word has been heard from Belle, her father or the beast since."

"I don't believe it!" said Jacqueline immediately. 

"What a surprise."

"Lizzie," said Joseph, "not everyone is as entranced by these tales as you."

"I believe it!" said Gabrielle.

"Of course," sniffed Jacqueline, "You're her shadow."

"Girls, girls," said Joseph soothingly. "Why don't you go and see that interesting bookstore I believe exists in town."

"There's a bookstore? I'm going." Said Jacqueline immediately.

"I'll be right there." Said Lizzie.

"Gabby, do you want to come?"

"And do what, read?" she asked incredulously.

"I believe that is the common practice in such places, yes."

"No, I'll stay with Papa."

"Alright, goodbye."

"Au Revoir."

The two sisters strolled into town, pausing as all the new neighbors greeted them. Jacqueline soon found some erudite young man who was quite willing to listen to her views on every subject and followed her around in a bit of a heroine-worshipping manner. Lizzie soon found herself the object of scrutiny by a particularly tall man of about 28 years or so.

"Hello, " she said politely, "My name is Elizabeth Leroux. Who might you be?"

"I am Gaston Moncharmin. I'm sure you would love to come and walk with me," he said smoothly, taking her hand.

Lizzie could not really see a way out of the situation, so she complied and was dragged along the street, listening to Gaston Moncharmin's numerous exploits with detached lack of interest until she reached the bookstore.

"Monsieur, thank you for escorting me, but I must take leave of your presence. A bientot." She said as she nearly ran into the bookshop. Thankfully, or possibly not, Gaston did not notice her rudeness.

She made it into the bookshop and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," said the bookshop owner, a pleasant, old looking man with glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you have any fairy tales?" she asked.

"Fairy tales, but of course. One of my best customers loved them. Although, I believe she has become one in her own right."

Lizzie looked up from her frantic searching of the shelves.

"Do you mean Belle?"

"Oh, so you've heard about our legend, have you?"

"Yes, do you know any more about her?" asked Lizzie breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle-?"

"Leroux, Elizabeth Leroux."

"Mademoiselle Leroux, but I know no more than does the rest of the town and I believe you've heard the story already."

"Indeed I have," she chuckled wryly.

"Oh, so you've met the town Bon Homme?"

"Unfortunately, I have made his acquaintance."

It was the bookkeeper's turn to chuckle wryly.

"Well, if you'd prefer something more conventional, we have a beautiful book full of stories compiled by two men who call themselves the Brother's Grimm."

"Oh, they're tres excellent." She said.

"You've read them in that city of yours?" he asked with almost a hint of disappointment in his voice."

"Only a few," she lied. Little white lies were always quite useful.

"If you'd like, I could give you a copy of my book?" he said, the question apparent in his voice.

"What is it about," she asked curiously.

"La Belle et La Bette." He answered.

"Bien sur!" she exclaimed.

"To tell the truth," he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I did not write this alone. This is the product of quite a few letters of correspondence between me and the Princess, Belle."

"I won't tell a soul," she promised.

Lizzie walked back toward her sister, who was droning on and on about the affairs of state and the time she had been privileged to speak with the great Voltaire.

"Come on, Jacqueline, we must go and speak to the wonderfully brilliant chickens and cows that now grace our homes."

Fortunately for Jacqueline, her new admirer did not hear Elizabeth's comment, but Jacqueline turned crimson with rage and barely refrained from throwing her sister into the stocks. 

When they got home, however, was a different story

"Elizabeth Leroux, how dare you do that? You could have humiliated me!"

"I didn't, did I?" 

"You could have!"

"Yes, I also could have been the Comtess de Chagney if I had accepte dthat young Philippe's proposal. But why dwell on what ifs."

"As I recall, Lizzie, You never liked young Philippe. You thought he was, what was your terms, and egocentric fop?"

"Yes, Papa, but considering the man I met today, Count Philippe seems modest and humble."

"Pray tell, what wonderful man did you meet?" asked Jacqueline.

"A pompous idiot that stands about six foot 5 and cannot see past his own muscles named Gaston Moncharmin."

"Was he handsome?" asked Gabrielle curiously.

"Yes, Gabrielle, he was tall, black hair, nice demeanor when he's not trying to tell you about his heroic exploits. In plain French, he's never nice."

Joseph and Jacqueline laughed.

"I'm going to read my book" said Elizabeth as she climbed the ladder to reach the loft where she would be sleeping. It was small and rather austere, but anything was better than sharing a room with both Gabrielle and Jacqueline.

She opened to the first page.

__

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind. 

But one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose, in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the Prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty was found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The Prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who were in it. 

Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.

The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose that would bloom until his twenty first year. If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then, the spell could be broken. If on the would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.

As the years past, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Elizabeth read until the sun went down, and began again as soon as she was finished with her chores. After four days, she had finished it.

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…And they lived, as all fairy tales demand, happily Ever After. A year after they were married, their first child was born, a baby girl named Rose.

Lizzie smiled as she closed the book and fell asleep. She would return it first thing in the morning. Her last thought was how wonderful it would be to meet a prince like Vncent.

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To Be Continued ~

Please R + R


	2. La Bette

The Rose of a Beast

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Thank you to all two of my reviewers (hint hint!) so far. If you really want an explanation for why Gaston's alive, his fall was broken rather quickly (after ten feet) by the shingles of the castle roof and he eventually landed in a tree so he did not die, although his strength is not what it used to be and it took him over a year to recover. This is five years after the events in the movie so life has returned to normal. Or has it? 

Thank you for the rest of the complements and I hope I live up to your expectations. If I don't, well, one less reviewer, j/k! Please don't go!

Um, for all those of you who abhor Lizzie's last lines, I'm sorry, I hate them too, but I couldn't come up with anything else to say. 

Since I forgot it last chapter, the disclaimer - Anything you recognize from B&TB is Disney's, anything you don't was plagiarized from someone else.

Roses are Red; Violets are blue, I no own so you no sue!

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Chapter 2 - Le Bette

Six months passed much quicker than any of the Lerouxs thought it would. Joseph found that the life of an eccentric old carpenter suited him rather well. He had made his fortune in trade, but began his life as a carpenter's apprentice and now found that his old fingers remembered their old skill. He soon became rather famous for his abilities as well as the fact that there were no other wood craftsmen in the town. Joseph worked hard, but was enjoying himself and did not miss the grandiose city life he had lost.

Jacqueline soon found her niche among three, scholarly young men who were studying to become something more than the butcher, weaver and bookkeeper's sons, respectively. She was worshipped for her knowledge and had her flock of devotees (only metaphorically) following her everywhere.

Gabrielle had taken up the vacant post of town beauty as soon as she set foot outside the four walls of her house. With her long, blond hair and clear, blue eyes, she quickly became the new "Belle" so to speak. Gaston had noticed her immediately and was paying almost as much attention to her beauty as to his, about six hours spent per day admiring himself, the other six admiring her. Gabrielle, being on the shallow end of the gene pool as far as brains go, loved the attention.

Elizabeth quickly resigned herself to her sisters' swains as well as her own single status. It was not that she was ugly or unwanted, there were quite a few men who were willing to have her. She just didn't want them. She spent much of her time in the bookstore or riding their horse. He was a gelding named Hermes, docile to the point of boredom. As Elizabeth rode back to the house, she slowed Hermes from a walk to an even slower walk and dismounted in front of the rather makeshift stable. After stabling the horse, she walked in to the not quite delicious aromas of dinner cooking.

Gabrielle was not yet a Cordon bleu chef, but she had learned to cook and the meat had become distinguishable from the vegetables, which was an improvement. Elizabeth had tried to cook, once. After managing to nearly burn down the entire house, as well as melt the pot in which she was boiling the water, Elizabeth left cooking to her younger siblings.

"Hello, Lizzie" said her father jovially, "How was your ride?"

"Slow," she answered. "It was more of a walk."

Gabrielle giggled.

"Lizzie," said Jacqueline, "if I recall, it was you who thought that we should name him after the Greek god of speed."

"I was hoping it would have some effect but, apparently, it does not." Elizabeth retorted.

"Now girls" said their father in mock seriousness, "Don't fight."

"We weren't fighting, we were merely roughing a bit."

Just then, before Lizzie got too sarcastic, Gabby brought out the food and they all ate dinner.

"This is very good, Gabby." Said their father.

"It is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, what is it?" said Jacqueline.

"It's stew."

Oh, thought Lizzie, I thought it was black soup.

After eating a bit more, the four Lerouxs decided to take a walk to the town tavern, more for Gabrielle, Jacqueline and Joseph than for Lizzie, but she went to keep them company. She also brought the bookkeeper's copy of Belle et La Bette and was editing it for him.

AS they sat down in the tavern, Joseph immediately began to discuss his business with the few other artisans of the town. Jacqueline found a corner of her own and began an earnest discussion of politics with her three devotees. Two of them merely respected and valued her knowledge but, Gerald, the bookkeeper's son was absolutely infatuated with her. Elizabeth hid a smile at his attempts to flirt with her. Fortunately for Jacqueline, she liked him too much and overlooked his pitiful lack of social skills in favor of his knowledge.

Gabrielle had no such problems. She was seated next to Gaston and enjoying quite a bit of attention. She ignored the virulent glares from Gaston's three blond bimbettes: Josephine, Henrietta and Lisette. He was almost paying attention to what she had to say. The almost was probably because he was seated right next to a mirror and he had to look every five seconds and make sure that the cleft in his chin had not disappeared. Elizabeth groaned in her mind. True, Gabrielle could be happy with a man like him and they would go well together, but Mon Dieu, he was egotistical.

Elizabeth was not in the least interested in Gaston's latest exploits, if there were any, so she curled up in the corner and began to proofread the bookkeeper, Richard's, novel.

After making a few minor corrections and adding in a word or two to make the prologue sound better, Elizabeth put the book down. 

"This is going to take longer than I thought," she said quietly.

She slipped the book into her bag and began to watch the two men brawling on the pub floor.

"Gabby" she asked her sister quietly, "what's going on here?"

"On, Henri wanted to take Josephine to dinner but George said that he was taking her"

"Charming," said Lizzie dryly.

"Men really have to fight about everything, don't they?" asked Gabby innocently.

That line caught the attention of Gaston.

"It's not a fight, it is a way of expressing anger and dominance in winning the female."

"I didn't know you knew words that big, Gaston." responded Elizabeth.

Gabrielle gasped in shock.

"What would you know about gender appropriate actions? You and your books and no household abilities, no one will ever take you" Gaston asked hotly.

"I know more than you do from quoting the Hot Stud with No Brain Manual. Besides, who said I needed to conform to your ideas, mine are so superior." 

Thankfully, the door blew open just then. Gaston had just deciphered what Elizabeth had said and was about to lose the last vestiges of his temper.

A loud, feral roar filled the room. It grew louder and louder until it seemed to fill the entire tavern and still expanded.

"Where is my daughter?" the voice roared.

"Who is your daughter?" asked Gaston, brashly.

"You… you bastard, you know who she is," snarled the voice as its owner stepped into the room.

It was the Beast.

Gaston cowered in his chair, remembering his last encounter. Gabrielle hid her face in Gaston's chest, but he took no notice of her.

Pusillanimous moron thought Liz wryly; if he even knew what that was.

The Beast was large, too large to fit fully into the low roofed tavern. He crouched down to fit in and still, he had had to crawl through the doorway like the animal he seemed to be. A mane of dark, brown hair surrounded his face. His entire body was covered in fur of the same color and his forepaws were larger than the size of Gaston's face. His feet were enormous. His eyes were the scariest of all. Amidst the looks of a fierce animal, his deep blue eyes were so human as to be terrifying. It was the combination of man and animal, person and beast that had all the occupants of the room cowering on their knees.

There was one exception. Elizabeth was still standing, not unafraid but refusing to be terrified. She alone knew the story and she wanted to help him.

"Gaston Moncharmin," snarled the beast, "What have you done with my daughter?"

"Nothing, I swear, let me go!"

"Pitiful," Elizabeth muttered under her breath. The beast was at the other end of the room from Gaston.

The beast's keen ears heard that comment and he snorted with something akin to laughter.

"What brave youngster said that?"

Elizabeth wasn't sure whether or not to answer. Should she risk her life and try to help him? Could she ever live with herself if she did not? Her mind was made up, she had to go and help.

"I did." She said. A shocked silence fell over the room. All eyes were trained on the young girl who dared to stand up to this monster.

"Please believe me, Monsignor, I mean no disrespect." Began Lizzie in a small, shaky voice. "I wish to help you. I know for a fact that Gaston has not left this village for more than twelve hours at a time for the last six months." Why was she standing up for Gaston? she asked herself. Maybe it was for Gabby, maybe it was to satisfy her own guilt for all the subtle, yet well-deserved, insults she had thrown at him in the past twenty-seven weeks. 

"So who did it?" asked the beast, sounding afraid and unsure. "Who else has a grudge against me or mine? Why would he have sent me here, as a joke?"

"Who sent you here?" asked Elizabeth.

"My brother-in-law is something akin to a seer. He said that I would find the road to my daughter's kidnapper here. So who is it?"

The beast looked around the room with a piercing glare. Suddenly, a green glow appeared in the breast pocket of the beast's coat. He reached in and removed the Magic Mirror from within. He looked in the mirror and a voice rang out.

"Vincent, you're going about this whole thing the wrong way." It was the pleasant voice of a man in his early twenties.

"Well, then, what do you propose we do?" 

"We?" asked the voice. "My dear brother, there is no we involved. I get the visions; you go do whatever they tell you to do. Nice symbiosis, isn't this?"

"You bastard," snarled the beast, "My daughter is in mortal danger and you're standing here talking in cryptic riddles."

"You know how much I enjoy aggravating people, " responded the mirror good-naturedly. 

"Jo-"

"Shut up, before you say something you'll regret!" said the mirror in a tense and worried voice.

"Now, hold the mirror out so that I can see the entire tavern."

"The beast did as he was told. A young man in a lord's hat, golden doublet and a mask over his upper face peered out of the mirror.

"You are stupid," he said calmly to the beast, who was obviously his brother-in-law. "Anyone with an iota of brains would know that it's the girl."

"What girl?" 

"The one who was talking to you."

"What one, oh, her."

"Yes, Vincent, her. Now go away, I was sleeping."

With that, the mirror stopped glowing and returned to its original state, reflecting the astonished tavern patrons.

"Damn, stupid in-laws."

"Er, what do you need me for?" asked Elizabeth.

The beast stared at her.

"You are, apparently, the key to finding my daughter. Will you come back to the castle with me?" He sounded almost afraid of her answer.

"She will NOT!" said her father hotly.

"Lizzie, you can't do this," pleaded Gabrielle and Jacqueline.

"Yes, leave the matter to the monster and his false seer to deal with. This isn't woman's work, anyway," butted in Gaston.

Those words were probably the stupidest thing anyone could have said.

Lizzie stood up, unafraid of the huge monster before her. She walked forward and curtsied slowly before the huge creature.

"It would be my honor to help and serve you in any way I can."

The beast looked at her incredulously. Her father and sisters ran up to her.

"Lizzie, I forbid you to do this." Joseph said immediately.

She merely looked at them.

"Papa, Gabby, Jacques, this is my role. I can't abandon these poor people. I know the whole story and I'm not afraid. This is a chance for me to be in a fairy tale. I have to go. It's my destiny."

The beast stretched his hand out to Elizabeth. "You will come Mademoiselle?"

"I will come."

~ **To be continued**


	3. This complicates things

The Rose of a Beast  
  
Thank you, to all my reviewers, friends and others. I'll see how well my characters stay in canon, but I'm not promising anything. Keep reading and reviewing and I'm apologizing in case the next few chapters take a while because  
  
I'm trying to go somewhere with my other story, but, c'est la guerre. Don't forget to R&R!  
  
I own some people, so don't use Lizzie or Joshua without asking. Anyone you recognize is up for grabs except for Joshua, he's mine! Hands off!  
  
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In which the situation becomes complicated.  
  
Shouts of anger and protestation filled the air as Lizzie left the tavern. She tried to ignore them, but one voice rose above the rest in a challenge.  
  
"Turn and fight, monster!" It was Gaston. She groaned quietly.  
  
The Beast turned.  
  
"Be a man," snarled Gaston. "Or are you too much of an animal? What young girl in her right mind would follow you? Let her out of your spell!"  
  
Elizabeth had been getting angrier at every word he said. While the Beast stood there, Elizabeth walked up to Gaston and slapped him across the face.  
  
Everyone gasped.  
  
"That was for being a stuck up megalomaniac who doesn't know how to shut up!"  
  
Gaston caught her hand in an iron grip and began to bend it slowly and relentlessly backwards.  
  
"No. One. Ever. Hits. Me. No one."  
  
Lizzie felt the bones of her wrist scraping against one another. She gritted her teeth against the pain, willing her bones not to crack.  
  
Suddenly, the pressure ceased and Gaston flew halfway across the room.  
  
"Enough!" said the Beast. He grabbed Elizabeth by her uninjured wrist and dragged her out the door. She was perfectly happy to go.  
  
Elizabeth and the Beast began to walk down the road. Lizzie was thinking about her predicament and massaging her wrist.  
  
Lizzie was fairly worried. Why her? What had made the man in the mirror choose her out of all the people there? What in the world could she do?  
  
The Beast was thinking much along the same lines as Elizabeth. He did not doubt what his brother-in-law said, but he was not at ease.  
  
After two hours worth of walking, the silence was broken by the sound of hoof beats.  
  
The Beast looked up.  
  
"Mon Dieu, Josh, you nearly scared me to death."  
  
"Sorry." said the man on the horse, not sounding sorry at all.  
  
"What are you doing here?" asked the Beast. "If something's happened, you could have told me from the mirror. You shouldn't have left Belle alone."  
  
"Vincent, you're overreacting. The reason I'm here has absolutely nothing to do with you."  
  
The Beast, whose name was apparently Vincent, stared at the young man. Elizabeth did as well, but for an entirely different reason. The man on the horse was very good-looking. He was tall, well built and seemed to have a nice profile. The top of his face was shadowed by his hat and covered by a golden mask. She recognized the mask.  
  
"You're the seer in the mirror!" exclaimed Lizzie.  
  
"At your service," he said as he dismounted and bowed.  
  
"This is my wife's brother, Joshua. Joshua this is..."  
  
"Elizabeth Leroux" supplied Lizzie.  
  
Joshua laughed.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth Leroux. Do I have to add the Leroux every time I address you?" he asked in a serious voice.  
  
"Only if that's the way you usually address your superiors." she responded gravely.  
  
The Beast laughed.  
  
"Now that these *formalities* have been dealt with, would you care to explain what you're doing here?"  
  
"Merely to inform you that your wife wishes you back home soon and that, at the rate your walking, you won't make it back until dawn.  
  
Lizzie groaned. Another eight hours of walking through the chilly autumn weather did not sound appealing.  
  
"I see no way to go any faster and I'm already setting a grueling pace for her to follow."  
  
"That, mon frere, is why I'm the seer and you're not."  
  
He turned to Elizabeth. "Mademoiselle Leroux, would you do me the honor of riding back to the castle with me?"  
  
Elizabeth would have jumped for joy, but she didn't think her legs could manage it.  
  
"The honor is all mine." she responded.  
  
She walked up to the horse, but before she could hoist herself onto the horse, she felt a pair of strong hands lift her up, into the saddle. She may have been insulted, but she was too surprised. What he had done was treat her like a lady, not a peasant, and, though he probably did not realize, she recognized his actions as the same as the gentlemen of the royal court. Lizzie was quite shocked to find court manner in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"Hold on to my waist," said Joshua as he vaulted into the saddle.  
  
The horse reared up and Lizzie flung her arms around his middle.  
  
The rider laughed as he felt the terror of the girl seated behind him.  
  
The horse's hooves hit the ground and it rode off with the Beast running behind.  
  
So much for a Lord's manner, thought Lizzie wryly.  
  
"Are you alright?" inquired Joshua condescendingly.  
  
"Yes, I found it rather tame actually." she said with false bravado.  
  
She heard a snort of laughter that was swiftly suppressed.  
  
"Sir, are you laughing at me?"  
  
"Would I ever laugh at a lady?"  
  
"So you're implying I'm not a lady?" she asked, putting him on the spot again.  
  
"Caught by mw own words!" he said with mock dismay.  
  
Lizzie grinned. Maybe this adventure wouldn't be so bad after all. She may not have found a friend, but she had someone to help her.  
  
After half an hour of hard riding, they reached the castle. Joshua rode up to the gates and muttered something Lizzie didn't catch.  
  
The gates opened smoothly and Joshua spurred his horse on through the gate.  
  
He dismounted at the gates and held his hand up to help her down. She took it and he caught her as she fell.  
  
Lizzie turned around and saw the horse being led off by a walking horse whip. She gasped in surprise before remembering what she had read.  
  
"So I see you've noticed the castle servants," said the Beast's gruff voice.  
  
"Rather." she responded wryly.  
  
"I'm impressed," said the beast. "It's rare that anyone will look at them and not scream in fright."  
  
"Shall we go inside?' continued the beast as he offered Lizzie his arm and left Joshua to bring up the rear.  
  
As they entered the grand hallway, a woman who could not have been more than twenty-five ran to meet them.  
  
The beast took her gently into his arms and Lizzie turned away so as not to see what they were doing. AS she did, Joshua caught her eye and grinned crookedly for about a second before looking down.  
  
"Josh" said the beast, "Would you please show Elizabeth to her room?"  
  
"Yes, your majesty." Said Joshua dryly.  
  
He offered Elizabeth his arm and she took it.  
  
"So," said Joshua conversationally as they ascended the grand staircase, "what brings you to this godforsaken castle anyway?"  
  
"You, I suppose," she answered after a moment's deliberation.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Well, you did tell the bea-Prince to bring me here."  
  
"True," he said in an apologetic tone of voice, "I did. However, you don't seem to be the type to follow orders blindly or follow orders at all." Those words were accompanied by a quirky grin.  
  
"You're right," she said ruefully, "I'm not. I really don't know why I came. It doesn't make sense. In all other fairy tales, the heroine comes to rescue her father or lover or something. I guess I was just curious. Your brother-in-law's story intrigued me."  
  
"How much did he tell?" asked Joshua sharply.  
  
"Not nearly as much as I want to know. He said that his daughter had been kidnapped and he accused Gaston Moncharmin of doing it, do you know who Gaston is?"  
  
"From what I've heard, he seems to be a man in whom the size of his ego varies inversely with the size of his brain.  
  
Lizzie laughed delightedly.  
  
"That is one of the better descriptions I've heard of him in a while. As I was saying, he accused Gaston, but Gaston denied it and then you appeared in the magic mirror and no new facts were revealed to me after that. What's going on?"  
  
"Far too much," said Joshua gravely. "From what I gathered, which isn't much, the spell's back. Oh wait, you don't know what the spell is, about 15 years ago, an old woman came to the door and offered Vincent a rose if he's let her stay the night. He refused and she turned out to be a beautiful enchantress and transformed him into a beast. He had to learn to be kind and fall in love with a girl and have a girl fall in love with him before the last petal fell off the rose. To make a long story short, he did and everything was back to normal. He and Belle, my sister, married and had a daughter, Rose. About two weeks ago, Rose was kidnapped by persons unknown and they called me because I dabble in magic and have a certain amount of the Sight."  
  
"Lucky." Muttered Lizzie under her breath.  
  
"Only when playing cards," responded Joshua. Otherwise it's a real pain in the arse, pardon my English."  
  
"You were in England?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"I was studying there."  
  
"You lived in that barbaric country?" she interrupted again.  
  
"Yes, well, it has its good points."  
  
"Such as…?"  
  
"If I married a shrew like you, divorce is an option so I wouldn't have to soil my hands with your blood."  
  
They reached a door in the hallways.  
  
"Your rooms, Mademoiselle. I'll see you at breakfast." He spun on his heel and strolled off.  
  
Lizzie sat down on the bed. She had been so close to an answer, why did she have to open her mouth?  
  
She sat down on the bed and, with a pang, she realized that she missed her father and sisters. For the first time, Lizzie wondered if she had made the right choice in choosing to come. Maybe she shouldn't have gotten involved at all.  
  
As these thoughts raced around her brain, Lizzie dropped off to sleep and didn't even notice her being divested of her clothes and put to bed in the huge four-poster that sat magnificently in the center of the room. She was too tired and her eyes were clouded by tears.  
  
Joshua sat down in front of the roaring fire in the library and pulled out a book at random.  
  
"The Lord of the Rings" he read off the cover. "Should be interesting." He opened the book and quickly checked the title page to see when it was written.  
  
"Hmm, mid-20th century. Hope it's good." Joshua sat down to read, but his thoughts kept intruding on the developing plot line.  
  
"Dammit," he said, putting the book down.  
  
He stretched out on the huge Oriental rug in front of the fire, resting his head on his hands. Who was this girl? Why in hell's name did he drag her into this mess of magic? Why did she come?  
  
"Adventure isn't all it's cracked up to be." He muttered to himself as he gazed into the flames.  
  
He was shocked to see the girl's face staring back at him. Her hair was cropped short and hidden beneath a helmet, but it was definitely she. She was seated atop a great, black stallion and had a gorgeous sword girt at her side. He watched her ride down a hill toward a raging battle. The picture turned back into the dancing red and yellow flames. Joshua lowered his head back onto his hands. It was too much to think about. He needed to sleep so he let himself drift off in front of the fire. His last thoughts were about Elizabeth and how damnably complicated this whole situation was becoming.  
  
~ To be Continued 


	4. Second Impressions

This is for all the people who have noticed I haven't updated in a few millennia and sent me on a guilt trip.  So, here we go with chapter four.  And, at the suggestion of a wonderful reviewer, I'd like to note that the names Leroux and Moncharmin are blatantly stolen from Gaston Leroux's Phantom of the Opera.  But I believe everything else is my own imagination.

@~%~ ~%~@ 

Chapter 4 – Second Impressions

Lizzie woke up the next morning with a splitting headache from all the crying she had done the night before.  She sat up, massaging her temples and went to pour cold water on her face.

"Well," she said softly, rubbing her face with a soft white cloth.  "This is going to be one interesting day."

A soft knock interrupted her morning preparations.

"Come in," she said, sitting down on the couch.

"I thought you might like a bit of breakfast," said the walking teapot that suddenly entered, followed by a silver tray with carved legs that was laden with all kinds of breakfast foods, from porridge to bacon.

"A bit?" she thought to herself.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.  She had actually been wondering about breakfast, a sentiment echoed by her rumbling stomach.  The silver tray floated obligingly onto the table before settling down and the teapot hopped up to join it.

"Thank you," she repeated, taking a piece of toast and marmalade.

"Not a problem at all, dearie," said the teapot.

"Umm, what should I call you?" she asked the teapot nervously.  She was hoping it wasn't something such as Madam Teapot.  She would never be able to say that with a straight face.

"Oh, how silly of me," said the teapot.  "My name is Mrs. Potts."  Lizzie groaned inside.  This was almost as bad.  "Your serving maid's name is Argent," Mrs. Potts continued.  Well, that was an improvement.  Lizzie was expecting something along the lines of S. Tray.

Argent bobbed a curtsey as best as she could without spilling the tea.  Lizzie tried to remember how to nod graciously and, to her credit, she had not forgotten her studies in etiquette quite so much as to insult a servant in someone else's home.

Mrs. Potts curtsied as best as she was able one last time before leaving.  Argent followed a few minutes later, bearing the remains of Elizabeth's breakfast.

"Well, that was informative," said Lizzie, rising to her feet.  "I could almost get used to these animate objects."

"Could you really?" asked the wardrobe eagerly.

"Perhaps not yet," Elizabeth conceded with a smile.  "And what is your name, madam?" she asked the wardrobe courteously.

"Madam Taylor," she answered and Lizzie looked momentarily heavenwards.

"May I glance inside you?" Elizabeth continued.

"Certainly, Mistress," Madam Taylor replied, opening herself up for Lizzie's scrutiny.  "May I suggest that you wear the blue one?" she said sweetly.

You may, Lizzie though to herself.  But I don't have to listen.

In the end, Lizzie did wind up wearing the blue dress, along with all the jewels that went along with it.

"I haven't worn so much jewelry in quite a few years," she murmured.  "In fact, I haven't worn jewelry in a quite a few years.  It's going to be fun to pretend to be a princess again."

"You look lovely, child," said Madam Taylor approvingly.

"Thank you," said Lizzie, smiling as she left her suite.  Let's see what Joshua had to say about her now.

She stopped short.  Where had that thought come from?  Why did it matter what he thought of her.  He was insignificant!

And after that reassuring reminder, she swept down the stairs.

"Good morning," said the Beast gruffly from the bottom of the stairs.  Lizzie nodded.

"Good morning," she replied, nodding to both the Beast and the young woman next to him who Elizabeth presumed must be Belle.

"I trust you slept well?" the Beast continued.

"Very well, thank you," Lizzie answered, unable to keep her gaze from darting around the room to look at the servants scurrying all over.

"By all means," said Belle with a smile, "Do look around."

Lizzie smiled sheepishly.

"There will be time for that later," she replied.  "In the meantime, I would like to know more about why I am here."

"Of course you would," came a voice from behind the Beast.  Joshua stepped out of his brother-in-law's shadow and bowed courteously to everyone in the room.

"Joshua," Belle snapped.  "Haven't I told you to use the door to enter the room?  Especially when there are guests."

Joshua shrugged like a petulant child.  Lizzie bit back the smile that was threatening to show itself on her face.

"Oh, go ahead," Joshua muttered, turning to her.  "I know you're laughing at me."

"I would never do such a thing," Lizzie replied with as straight of a face as she could manage.  Belle smiled at her, before turning back to her brother.

"Have you learned anything new about Rose?" she asked him.

"Not really," he answered.  "As I've said before, I can tell that she's been kidnapped by someone with great malice toward you and Papa, but I do not know who."

Joshua did not like lying to them, but he dared not tell them his suspicions about Rose's kidnapping.  Not until he had more to go on.  And Lizzie seemed to be his key.

"Do you know which way her kidnappers went?" Lizzie asked softly.

"No," the Beast answered bitterly.  "We have no idea.  My people and I scoured the countryside for over a week, but there was no trace of anyone."

"It's obviously someone with a lot of magic or a lot of money," added Joshua.  "He is capable of reversing the spell on the castle, which either requires a great deal of power or a great deal of gold to hire the power."

"But who with so much power or money would be interested in my daughter?" Belle whispered.  The Beast slipped his arm gently around her.

"There must be a clue," Lizzie hissed.

"Lizzie, my dear," said Joshua with a smile.  "Rome wasn't built in a day.  And this puzzle will not be solved by sitting here wracking our brains alone.  We're going to need some more leads than that.  Which is where you come in."

"Me?" Lizzie squeaked.  "But how?"

"You have been less than three years out of the upper echelons of society.  Odds are than anyone with the magic or money to curse a castle has been high on the rungs of society for a long time.  Together, we can work to try and pinpoint the men or woman most likely responsible for this atrocity."

Lizzie smiled as she saw Joshua's reasoning unfold.

"When do we begin?" she asked.

"How does now sound?" Joshua answered, pulling a chair out from the table for her to sit at.

"Thank you, M'Lord," she said by rote as his actions dredged up the memory of society.

Joshua froze and fixed Lizzie with a frightening glare from his flashing green eyes, half hidden by the golden mask.

"Don't you ever call me M'Lord," he spat, his eyes glowing almost supernaturally.

Lizzie nodded, her breath caught in her throat.

"Josh!" Belle snapped at him.  "Behave yourself!"

He looked away from Lizzie to gaze, bleary eyed, at Belle.

"You would never understand," he said coldly, before turning back to Lizzie.

"I apologize, Elizabeth," he said formally.  "I should not have reacted like that and I humbly beg your forgiveness."

"And I am happy to forgive you," she answered.  He took her hand and raised it to his lips.  She shivered as he brushed a light kiss over her skin, before dropping her hand and looking back up at her.

"Now, shall we begin?" he asked courteously.

Lizzie nodded, but she noticed a certain distance in his manner and she was very curious as to why that title was so noxious to him.

Joshua sighed and rubbed his temples.  Lizzie couldn't know who that name made him think of, but the nightmares were there and would always be.  But there would be time for such reminiscence later.  He had a job to do.

After a few hours, Lizzie was more than ready to take a break.  Analyzing the lords with Joshua was no easy feat and the sensation that they were getting nowhere was not helping any optimistic ambience that may have survived.

"Well," Joshua shrugged, breaking the exhausted silence that had fallen on the pair, "At least we have a good idea who it's not."  
Lizzie laughed shortly, seeing the crooked grin beneath his mask.

"Let's go to dinner," he said, offering her his hand.  She took it and followed his lead to the dining room.

"Can I ask a rather personal question?" Lizzie asked as they strolled slowly down the hall.

"That depends on the question," he answered.

"Why were you so upset when I called you-"

"M'Lord?" he finished wearily for her.  "I suppose I owe you an explanation."

I suppose you do, Lizzie thought to herself.

"However, I don't think I can explain it fully.  Suffice to say that someone rather important from my past that I hated with a passion was referred to as M'Lord."

"I'm sorry," Lizzie murmured, watching his eyes roam the walls.

"It's inconsequential," Joshua replied brusquely.  Lizzie looked at him from underneath arched eyebrows.

"Alright," he conceded.  "Maybe it is still a sore point."

She smiled and laughed.  He pushed open the door to the dining hall and bowed her in.  Lizzie walked in regally, noticing a new person sitting at the table.  He was a man of at least fifty with a shock of white hair fringing a bald head.  He was short, round and uncommonly reminiscent of a hard-boiled egg.  A pair of kindly brown eyes peered at her and she couldn't help but smile back at the friendly, grandfatherly figure.

"Hello," he said with a wide grin.  "I'm Maurice, Belle's father.  You must be Elizabeth."  He rose rather ungracefully to his feet and Lizzie tried not to smile as he bowed.  She curtsied back.

Joshua followed her in and she saw Maurice's countenance darken.

"Good evening, father," Joshua said to him.  He nodded shortly in reply.

"We're currently in the middle of a large family feud," Joshua whispered as he led Lizzie to her seat.  "Just try to ignore it."

Lizzie sat down and watched as the magnificent dinner was served.  It was easy to forget about the tragedy that had struck this family, and, throughout dinner and the game of chess between the Beast and Joshua that came next, Lizzie found herself oddly content with her new life.

It was only when she was walking to bed that she remembered her own family and their little cottage at the edge of town.  She ran into her rooms, fighting tears.

"Elizabeth?" came a low voice that accompanied a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Lizzie sniffled.

"It's Belle," said the mistress of the house as she walked in and sat on the bed next to Lizzie.

"I thought you might be having a hard time sleeping, so I brought you some tea to help you relax."

"Thank you," Lizzie said, sipping the hot milky tea gratefully.

"No, thank you," Belle replied.  "I know how hard it is to leave your loved ones behind and come to an unfamiliar place.  And, from the bottom of my heart, I'd like to express my gratitude for the help you're giving me."

"I've done nothing so far," Lizzie pointed out bitterly.

"I have faith in you," Belle replied.  "After all, anyone who can spend five hours a day on speaking terms with my younger brother must have an extraordinary magical gift."

Lizzie smiled through her tears.

"He's really not so bad," she said.

"Until you get to know him," Belle added darkly.  Lizzie laughed and set the empty tea cup down on the tray.

"Sleep well," said Belle, motioning for the tray to follow her out of the room.  As soon as they were gone, Lizzie lay down on the bed and fell promptly to sleep.


	5. Another Mystery

Chapter 5

The next two weeks passed swiftly. Lizzie was acclimating nicely to the environment in the castle and her daily sessions with Joshua were beginning to bear fruit.

"Is this it?" he asked her for the third time that hour.

"That's all I can think of," came her reply, same as it had been. "I know of no one else with the wealth to reactivate this spell."

Joshua was reading down the list, sucking the end of his quill. His eyes were narrowed.

"The problem is," he muttered to himself. "These people have the means, but not the motive. We need someone with a motive. Someone who hates Maurice enough to attempt to harm those he loves."

"Why Maurice?" Lizzie wondered. Joshua looked at her.

"Who else?"

"Well," she stammered, "It could just as easily be Belle or the Beast… alright, maybe not. But what about yo-"

"Me?" Joshua interrupted her. "Lizzie, my dear, there aren't very many people who know me who would dare something like this. Those who bear such a grudge know me well enough, perhaps too well, and would not attempt to take their revenge with a family I have practically disowned."

Lizzie looked at him in shock.

"Haven't you noticed how well Maurice and I get along?" he asked sardonically.

"So why are you here?"

"Because of Rose. Because she doesn't deserve this. Because she's my niece and she's too young to have earned my animosity."

Lizzie mulled this one over for a minute.

"You don't particularly like that answer, do you?" Joshua murmured, grinning at Lizzie.

She sighed. "I guess not. I just don't understand why you and your father are fighting."

Joshua shook his head. "There are more reasons than I can count. And more family skeletons hidden there than anywhere else."

"I don't mean to pry," she apologized.

"I can't be mad at you for your curiosity. I'd be acting much the same way in your position."

Lizzie didn't respond, but went back to staring at the sheet, her mind completely preoccupied with the numerous mysteries provided by this young man in the golden mask. She had yet to get up the courage to ask him about it, but she found herself staring at it more than made her comfortable and she knew he would notice sooner or later. It was just one more piece to the puzzling enigma that he was. And she was determined to explain him. He was strange. His mannerisms were both noble and sorcerous. He was obviously a magical practitioner of some power, for she had seen him scrying for answers on numerous occasions. Yet he was the son of a poor inventor so where could he have learned this?

"Do I have the name of our culprit written on my face?" Joshua asked her, shattering her little reverie.

She smiled and shook her head, ducking to hide the color rising to her cheeks.

"It's alright, I know you find me devastatingly handsome."

Lizzie burst out laughing, her head snapping up to look into his mischievous eyes.

"And I know what the next question is," Josh murmured, his eyes darkening. "How would I know what's on your face if you persist on wearing that mask all the time?"

Lizzie looked at him, wondering what was coming and whether why this struck such a nerve.

"I do notice you staring at it the whole time. I'm not blind."

Lizzie bowed her head once again.

"I'm sorry," she breathed softly. "I… I didn't mean-"

"Of course you didn't," he muttered, waving his hand. "Like everything else with me, it's a sore point completely unrelated to you." He put his arm very gently on her back. "I'm being childish, ignore me."

Lizzie kept her head bowed.

"It was wrong of me," she whispered. "I should never have-"

"You're human," he chided her gently. "As are we all. We all have our faults. You're curious beyond reason and I'm arrogant as anything." He slid his arm up so it rested around her shoulders.

"That's a fairly accurate assessment," Lizzie couldn't help but murmur.

"I left out the part about you being hotheaded and stubborn as a mule."

"Not to mention the part about you being rude and obnoxious."

"And your shrewish tongue." Joshua's lips curved in a victorious smile as Lizzie stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You little…" she began, but then stopped. She couldn't even think of a witty repartee.

"Keep it that way," Joshua said to her. "It only adds to your charm."

Her jaw dropped as he got to his feet.

"I'm going to dress for dinner. I'll see you there."

Joshua left the room swiftly. Once he was outside, he found himself nearly crying from mirth at the look on her face. He couldn't help but be grateful for Lizzie's presence. After all, she was the reason that he was surviving this visit at all.

"I hope I didn't cross the line," he murmured as he walked up the stairs to his suite. "I don't want to lose her just yet."

Lizzie was still sitting in the library, staring at the list before her without really seeing it. She couldn't believe what Joshua had just said. And she didn't even know what surprised her more, the wound or the balm.

"What happened to me not letting him get to me?" she wondered aloud, looking down at the list and suddenly getting an idea.

"He's a lord above reproach," she murmured. "And he has been off at the King of England's court for five years if not more. There's no way Joshua could know of him. I should plant him in the list and see what Joshua can find." Lizzie knew that this was a poor return to his jibe, but she had her own reasons as well, though she dared not admit them to herself. When she had been a young girl of twelve, the negotiations for her engagement to this lord had begun. He had been forced to leave in the middle; called away to England by the King. But the deal was still half made. Lizzie had tried to forget him, but his face was coming to mind more and more often nowadays. Though he was about twenty years her senior, he was very handsome and extremely elegant. And she wanted to know what was happening to him. If he was still available. If she was still half sworn to him,

She had once been excited about this match, which was beyond her wildest dreams, but now… there was something different. She was of mixed emotions about this man. Something was pulling her back.

And so, with a mixture of anxiety and impatience, Lizzie added one last name to the list. Lord Andrew Gilld.

They were seated at the dinner table that night when the straw finally broke the camel's back. Joshua and Belle had been talking about the progress being made in their research. Maurice interrupted them.

"I still don't see how this will be getting Rose back anytime soon," he announced loudly.

"Perhaps you have a better plan?" Joshua asked, the image of a perfect gentleman marred only by the sneer his mouth formed.

"You're a magical practitioner," Maurice retorted. "I don't see why all you are willing to do is sit here and allow some young woman to do all your work for you." He muttered something under his breath that only Joshua caught.

"Don't you dare say that," he hissed back at his father. Lizzie shuddered at the look In Joshua's eyes. The temperature around the table actually seemed to have noticeably dropped.

"It's true," Maurice answered. "You are just like him."

"No," Josh breathed.

"Just as stubborn,"

"No."

"As self righteous,"

"No."

"As hypocritical,"

"No!"

"As much of a lec-"

"NO!"

"Face it, Joshua. You have his blood. You are his son. And there's nothing you can ever do to change that."

"No!" Joshua roared, leaping to his feet. "Don't you dare speak of him. He's dead and gone. And nothing of him will ever be a part of me!"

"Look in the mirror, Josh," was all Maurice said. "You'll still see his face."

Joshua stared at Maurice, his face white with rage.

"There are no words," he growled finally and walked out of the room faster than Lizzie could have run.

There was utter silence at the table. Belle was looking at her husband with a sad, forlorn look in her eyes. The Beast smiled back at her and slid a paw around her waist. Maurice looked straight ahead at the empty space where Joshua had just stood. And Lizzie was gazing down at her half empty plate, not really sure what to say or where to look.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Belle said, looking apologetically towards h.

Lizzie looked up. "It's alright," she said softly.

"No it's not," Belle said, a little more strongly. "Especially in front of you, but in general, this has to stop."

Maurice turned to his daughter. "Belle, you know why that altercation had to happen."

"No, Papa," she said, "I don't know. I know that Josh answered us when he had no obligation to and he's helping us of his own free will."

"He is benefiting from this," Maurice commented.

"How?" Belle and the Beast both challenged at the exact same moment.

Maurice looked first at them and then at Lizzie before back at them. Lizzie suddenly realized what he was implying and, after a moment of outrage, burst out laughing.

"Do you honestly think that there's something going on between me and your son?" she couldn't help but ask. Maurice's eyes narrowed.

"That child is not my son."

Belle sighed softly. "Ignore him, Lizzie."

The Beast looked around. "I think it's safe to say that dinner is over." He smiled faintly. "Belle, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a walk?"

Belle nodded and, as her husband helped her to her feet, Lizzie felt the odd feeling of someone's eyes on her back.

Belle and her Beast left the room and Lizzie turned slowly around.

"Could you please stop staring at me?" she asked Maurice, her voice colder than she had intended it to be.

"Don't trust that boy," Maurice told her. "He'll only break your heart if not the rest of you."

And the old man walked slowly out of the room with Lizzie staring at him as he left.

She couldn't fathom what was wrong here. The entire familial interaction was just so ludicrous. And she felt like such an outsider and, even more so, an intruder in their private lives. The feeling that she shouldn't be here was stronger than ever. She put her head down on the table and just sat there, trying not to miss her father and sisters. It wasn't working very well. She just wanted to go home and get out of this mess she had been pulled unceremoniously into.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I was asked to wake you up," Joshua murmured. "I think the servants were afraid to clean you along with the tablecloth."

Lizzie smiled despite herself.

"Are those tears?" he asked, pulling her to his feet and looking seriously at her. Lizzie sniffled.

"That answers that question," he said, putting his arm around her waist and leading her out of the room towards the library. They didn't say anything, but Joshua was eyeing her worriedly. He hoped he hadn't upset her with that stupid fight. It's almost an incentive for him to patch things up. Almost, he thought with a wry smile.

Lizzie rested her head on Joshua's shoulder as he walked with her into the library.

"We need to talk." Lizzie looked up at Joshua with a rehearsed answer to that.

"If this is about dinner," she began, but he cut her off.

"Of course it is," he said, waving his hand idly. "Does that surprise you?" She had to admit that it didn't.

"The trouble between me and my father goes back for a long time. The reason why is unclear, but a while ago, he disowned me as his son and so I went to my uncle. Said uncle gave me an education at the finest institution of sorcery available. You see, he had visions of me working for him. I, however, had other plans. My father has yet to forgive me for what I had made myself into and how far above him I had grown."

Lizzie looked at him.

"Don't say it's not fair, I beg of you." She snapped her mouth shut. "I'm fully aware that it's not an ideal situation for anyone involved, but what can I do?"

Lizzie looked at him, wondering why he was in such a confessional mood.

"Now, I told you my story. It's your turn to tell me yours." He saw the confused look on her face.

"Why you were crying?" he suggested dryly.

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence.

"I want to go home," she whispered finally.

Joshua stared at her.

"I mean, my job here is done and I… I miss my family so much. It's not that I didn't like it here, but…"

Joshua was tempted to tell her that she could never leave, but he knew better than that. Such a ploy might work with his sister when Maurice had been in danger, but Lizzie would never buy it and he wasn't going to threaten her. Well, he hoped he wouldn't stoop that low. He shook his head. That isn't my style, Joshua thought to himself. It's more his style. He shuddered.

"Do you really want to leave?" he couldn't help but ask.

"I just want to see them for a little while," she whispered.

Joshua sighed. Okay, think fast, he told himself.

"Lizzie," he began. "I can't let you go for good yet." He watched her face fall and cursed inside. "I need you to come with me back to the city."

She looked at him curiously, wondering what he had in mind. Admittedly, Joshua was wondering the same thing.

"We need to be closer to them to get a decent scrying. Besides, we'll be in a perfect position for the sort of espionage we need. And a young, intriguing rich sorcerer with a beautiful fiancée is the ideal part to play."

He watched her eyes light up.

"The engagement's fake, don't get too excited."

She glared at him. "Thank God for that!"

He laughed. "But we can't get to the city if we leave now, because there's going to be a snowstorm in three days, right where we'd be."

"You can really find this out with magic?"

"Of course. However, if we leave tonight on horseback, you can spend two days with your family while I get drunk beyond belief at the inn."

She eyes him suspiciously.

"I was joking about the inebriation," he reassured her.

"Good," she replied. "I have no plans to marry the town drunk."

"Judging by the company you were keeping in that tavern, you could do a lot worse."

She laughed.

"Go and pack a trunk," he told her. "All traveling clothes, we'll find nice dresses when we're back in the city."

"I'm a girl," Lizzie retorted. "I don't see how you expect me not to bring nice clothes." She got to her feet.

Joshua laughed and kissed her hand.

"Thank you."

"No," Lizzie replied. "I should be thanking you." She left the room with a smile.

"No," Joshua murmured softly. "I definitely owe you more."

% End Chapter 5 %

Hello all! I'm fully aware that this took me nine months to update. In my defense, I was trying to get into college at the time and that worked out well, so it's about time I get back to this story. If you like this story, I do have some other stories on fictionpress. It should be under this name and, if you feel like bothering me, I might update those too. And reviews make me work. Without reviews, I start to lose my focus… (hint hint)

Anyway, thanks to all the people who have begged me to continue (all three of you) and if you can get some friends of yours to read and review, it wouldn't be such a bad thing.


	6. Fighting Attraction

Chapter 6

Disclaimer/Apology: You know what's coming. I haven't updated in forever and a half and I'm fully aware of that. Sorry. A bit of scary stuff in here and I'm sorry, but I did rate this PG-13 for a reason. If this is at all reassuring, it gets worse. Oh, erm, I guess that didn't help. Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed up until now. Enjoy!

Lizzie and Joshua sat at opposite ends of the carriage. She was staring resolutely out the window, the red velvet drapes drawn around her to mask even her back from _that_ man's stare. It was still unnerving even through the fabric. Their excursion to the city had failed miserably. In fact, the only good that seemed to have come out of the entire trip was that she had seen her family for two days. She smiled as she remembered her first re-encounter with them. She had been riding in the coach next to Joshua when they had drawn up to the small cottage that her family now owned. It had seemed smaller now, after living for so long in the splendor of the Beast's castle. Lizzie had been watching it like a hawk, searching for some movement within. She had smiled, seeing the curtains twitch aside as she had dismounted. Her youngest sister, Gabrielle, had run out the door barely three seconds later. Lizzie sighed, losing herself in the memory.

"Lizzie!" Gabrielle crowed happily, running in a most unladylike manner towards the carriage and embracing her sister almost before she had fully exited the coach.

"Hello again, Gabrielle," Lizzie replied, trying to get catch her breath as the very air from her lungs seemed squeezed out.

"Lizzie, you're back! I can't believe you're back," Gabrielle nearly squealed. "And in a coach and four no less!" Lizzie sighed. Why is it that she never remembered quite how annoying her siblings were?

"You look so beautiful," Gabrielle sighed with a superficial jealousy that Lizzie was used to ignoring before she leapt off onto another topic entirely. "Tell me everything!"

"Everything?" Lizzie asked in disbelief. "That would take too long."

"Well, tell me the important things, then!"

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, surprised at how much younger than her Gabrielle suddenly seemed. It was strange coming home after having been away for so long. And everything, while very much the same, seemed so different. Perhaps it was she who had changed.

"And what," Lizzie inquired, "Do you consider to be vital?"

Gabrielle sighed. "What do you think, Lizzie? Princes, Dukes, Barons, Men! Have you met a dashing young lord who will come and sweep you off his feet?"

Lizzie started giggling uncontrollably. "I wouldn't call him dashing," she managed to say while laughing.

"I heard that," came a voice within the coach. "And I have no plans to sweep you off your feet, so you can forget that idea as well."

Gabrielle clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Lizzie, are you married?" she demanded.

Joshua and Lizzie were practically in hysterics from the question.

"No, I am not," Lizzie finally managed to choke out. "Joshua and I are simply friends. I am helping him to try and find his niece who was kidnapped."

Gabrielle's eyes went wide. "Really?" she breathed. Lizzie nodded.

"Now, if you would allow me to go into my own house, we can sit down and talk like civilized people."

"Ignore me, then, thank you," Joshua called from the front of the coach where he was unhitching the horses.

"As you wish," Lizzie retorted and, taking her sister's elbow, steered her inside before she could develop any misplaced sympathy for Joshua.

"You're letting A LORD unhitch a carriage?" Gabrielle managed to squeak out once they were inside.

Lizzie shrugged; she hadn't actually thought about it.

"Mon Dieu, Lizzie, how could you? He'll never want to marry you now!"

"And thank goodness for that," Lizzie said arrogantly, indicating very clearly that the conversation on that topic was at an end. Gabrielle acquiesced meekly.

"So, where is the rest of our family?" Lizzie asked.

"Papa went to town to buy more wood," Gabrielle said. "And Jacquie went to visit her fiancé."

"Jacquie's engaged?" Lizzie nearly yelped. Gabrielle smiled happily.

"Yes, to Gerald, the bookkeeper's son!"

Lizzie sat down the stool in surprise. "Isn't that exciting?" Gabtielle asked her, not really waiting for an answer.

"Engaged," Lizzie murmured to herself. "Jacqueline, engaged!"

Gabrielle prattled on for a good long time about everything new that had been happening. Somewhere in between a list of Gaston's latest exploits which Lizzie had completely ignored and a parroting of the town's latest gossip, which got much the same response, Lizzie looked up and saw Joshua leaning on the doorjamb.

"Come in," she mouthed to him, motioning the young man into the house.

"Did I miss anything thrilling?" he drawled, sitting down in the chair she indicated. Lizzie smiled.

"Hello, Lord…" Gabrielle said about ten minutes later, finally noticing Joshua's return. She jumped to her feet and curtsied awkwardly.

"Joshua," he answered, rising to his feet, taking her hand and kissing it. "Simply Joshua."

Gabrielle smiled back at him. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she replied, her eyes flickering to the mask on his face as he let her hand fall and they both sat back down. Lizzie was impressed; displays of tact from her sister were a rare event.

"Gabrielle?" came a familiar voice from outside. "Whose horses have suddenly taken up residence in our stable?" Lizzie leapt to her feet.

"Papa!" she called excitedly, streaming out the door to go and greet her father.

That had been the best moment of the last two months. She had missed her father terribly in the castle. His advice had always been helpful and he had been her metaphorical and literal shoulder all her life.

Looking out the window of the coach as they trundled home, Lizzie wished fervently that she had her father there with her. Or that she had never left her small cottage on the edge of the village. But she had gone, after two days of near bliss, she had left with Joshua for the city. And it had all gotten worse from there.

"Lizzie," came a voice from the other side of the coach.

"Go away," she answered mechanically.

"Where?" Joshua inquired dryly.

"Jump out the carriage," she retorted, "I don't particularly care."

"Still upset, I presume?"

"Astute observation."

"There's no need to be mean," he said mildly.

"Excuse me?" Lizzie nearly yelled. She extracted her head from among the curtains with considerably less grace than she would have liked and turned to yell at Joshua. "Remind me again who spent at least an hour shouting last night?"

"That would be you," Joshua retorted. "I only spent three quarters of one."

"That's because you spent the last half an hour using that quiet voice that makes me feel like you're about to pull a dagger on me!"

"I was not about to pull a dagger on you," came the immediate reply. "The only thing I had in there is a sword."

"You can be so reassuring sometimes."

"You are impossible, Lizzie. Absolutely impossible."

She didn't bother replying to that.

"Look," Joshua said, trying again to have a civil conversation. "Could you, for one minute, stop acting like-"

"Like what?" she hissed, whirling around. "A child? And by what right do you treat me as one? I'm a human being, not a plaything."

"You're being unreasonable," said Joshua with a sigh.

"This isn't unreasonable," Lizzie retorted. "Unreasonable was your reaction last night."

"When I found out you had put him on the list because you were, and I quote, 'possibly betrothed to him!?' That was not unreasonable."

"Joshua, I don't care anymore. I found out he's dead, that's the end of it. Now will you please be quiet; I'm sick of arguing."

He was yelling something back, but she wasn't paying attention. She had found out the hard way that Joshua had a passionate hatred of Lord Andrew Gilld. A hatred that he refused to explain. But his descriptions of the man had been, well, lurid. She shivered and wondered if this was truly the man her father had been planning on having her marry. It didn't matter anymore, though. She couldn't marry someone three years dead.

Lizzie and Joshua had hoped to reach the castle that night but did not and so, for lack of any alternative, they were forced to impose on a poor farmer who was the only settler for at least five miles. Joshua had paid him for agreeing to their requests; which Lizzie grudgingly admitted to herself was far more money that he needed to have given. It was after a simple, skimpy dinner that Lizzie realized what she wanted to do. Joshua had gone to the hayloft to sleep and Lizzie found herself glaring at his retreating back; wishing for even a word of acknowledgement.

"Our agreement is obviously over," she muttered to herself, wrapping her cloak around her and stepping outside to look at the moon. She stared up at it, her eyes full of unshed tears; tears she had been holding back for the past twenty four hours.

"It's not fair," she whispered to herself. "He shouldn't be allowed to be so wonderful and so horrible at the same time." She would never have admitted it to him, but she knew that, deep down, she had been trying to use Andrew to make Joshua admit that she mattered to him. It had, unfortunately, backfired spectacularly.

The pounding of hoof beats snapped Lizzie from her reverie and she looked up in surprise. A horse was galloping up the path, his rider clinging to him with the fear of both being caught and of falling off. The man was obviously not a proficient rider, though Lizzie could tell little else about him. Behind the first horseman rode another. The latter sat easily in the saddle and was galloping as fast as the horse would go to catch up. The second was easily the better rider and would soon catch the first man. Lizzie ducked down so that she was barely visible behind the fence and watched with interest to see what would happen, if anything did.

The first horseman drew closer and Lizzie could see that the beast he rode was exhausted. The sweat on its flanks gleamed in the moonlight and it was foaming at the mouth. Its rider urged it on, hitting it with the whip and screaming for it to run faster. Lizzie shut her eyes and tried to place the voice. She knew she had heard it screaming before, but she couldn't remember where.

The hoof beats grew louder and Lizzie opened her eyes. She gasped in shock as she caught a glimpse of the man's face. As soon as she did, she could immediately place the voice.

_"Face it, Joshua. You have his blood"_ The words rang in her ears as she remembered Maurice yelling them at Joshua. And now he was here, riding like Satan himself was giving chase. Lizzie didn't particularly have any strong feelings for or against Maurice, but she was still tempted to wave him in and at least try to help him. There was, however, the obvious problem that he was running from something and whatever that something was, Lizzie had no desire to invite it in.

The other rider was still gaining on Maurice and Lizzie watched with horrified fascination as he raised one empty hand in the air and laughed. She had half expected the noise to be an evil cackle of triumph, but it was far more similar to that of an average man with a loud, deep, belly laugh. The moonlight glinted off something now held in his hand and Lizzie's eyes widened in shock for it had not been there before. He drew the hand back and threw the deadly knife he had been holding. It struck Maurice in the back and sent him sprawling from the horse onto the dust of the path without so much as a shout.

Lizzie was too scared to actually scream, but a small whimper of terror burst from her mouth. The man on the horse heard it. He spun towards the noise and Lizzie, tears streaming down her cheeks from fear, curled into small ball like a fetus and tried desperately to hide.

"I know you're there," said the rider, his voice low and dangerous. "Elizabeth Leroux, you cannot hide from me."

Lizzie gasped.

The man dismounted, a feral grin spreading across his features. Lizzie cowered even closer to the ground, wishing that he would, somehow, not find her. Her prayer went unanswered.

He knelt down next to her, hiding behind the wooden slats.

"Hello Lizzie," he whispered, his eyes glowing.

She screamed.

Joshua sat up bolt upright in bed at hearing that sound.

"Lizzie!" he hissed, shoving his feet into his boots and racing down the stairs, stopping only to grab his blade from where it was resting by the door.

"Don't be frightened," said the man, taking hold of her hand and pulling her almost gently to her feet. "Or have you forgotten me already?"

Lizzie shut her eyes and forced the words out of her mouth. "Hello, Andrew."


	7. Into the Woods

_Editing Comment - I'm sorry to anyone who read this in the past three days, had kindly deleted my asterisks in between the point of view changes, so this is my attempt to put them back in. Let's hope it works... okay, it didnt, i'm now resorting to periods and commas. Sorry_

A/N: The PG13 warning is here for this chapter. I am not going to ruin it for you and I have seen much worse in movies, but believe me when I say that this is not a happy chapter. There is semi-graphic violence that I am fairly sure does not require an R rating, but if you think I'm wrong, please tell me. Now, without further ado…

Chapter 7

Joshua didn't even bother with the ladder; he leapt all ten feet to the ground, landing adroitly on his feet with only a little magic to help him. The sound of Lizzie's scream was reverberating in his brain, striking that one chord in his heart that made him tremble with fear. He had brought her into this whole mess; if someone was hurting her, she was his responsibility. Or so he tried to tell himself—to excuse his actions. He knew he was in deep over his head here, but he didn't care and he knew that now wasn't the time to analyze it. She could be hurt. And he would rather die than see that come to pass.

-.-,-.-

Lizzie stared into the cold green eyes of Andrew Adam Gilld. He looked back at her, his eyes raking swiftly over her entire body. "You _have_ grown up, little girl."

"Where have you been?" she demanded, trembling with fear as she looked into the face of the man before her. He was not young, but beautiful nonetheless. His hair was long and light brown, tied back behind his head with one strand to frame his face. His aquiline nose and square jaw made him look like a Greek statue and his lips were full and oddly seductive in such a masculine face. His eyes glinted faintly in the deep night and held Lizzie's gaze with an intensity that frightened her.

"Waiting," he answered, reaching out and cupping her cheek. "Waiting for you." He raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to say something in reply. She couldn't help herself.

"How sweet." He laughed softly.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise." He pulled her to him and she gasped as he got to his feet and lifted her into his arms.

"My lord, I-" she began to protest, when he silenced her with a hand over her mouth. He smiled at her and sat her down on his horse before vaulting up behind her. She yelped, frightened by this stranger.

"Don't be too afraid," he purred in her ear, spurring the horse off with a deep laugh that blocked out all other noise. She thought she heard someone calling her name, but the hand gripping her waist allowed her no room to turn and see.

"Welcome, little girl," he said, kissing her ear and running his fingers through her hair. "We'll be home soon."

"Why are you doing this?" Lizzie asked, finally managing to turn enough to face him. He gazed curiously at her, waiting for her to continue. "Where are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you back home," he said, kissing further down her neck.

"Please stop," she whispered, cringing at his touches.

"You're my fiancée," he replied, his eyes dancing wickedly. "Soon to be my bride."

"That was a long time ago," she protested, wanting to break out of this grip he had her in and completely unable to. "Things have changed. My father-"

"I know of all that has happened since I left," he replied, licking her cheek and making her shiver. "Don't worry about a silly little thing like that. Our contract still stands." That wasn't the point, Lizzie thought to herself. She didn't want him to take her.

"But he'll be worried if I don't come home," she tried. "He'll notice my absence and be frightened for my safety."

"No he won't," Andrew replied. "You've been at court for the past month… I've watched you numerous times, though I doubt you've seen me. You're stunning, Lizzie."

"Thanks you," she whispered in reply.

"Although, I must admit, I wasn't quite as taken with your masked partner. Who is he?"

"Lord Joshua…" she trailed off, not knowing the rest of his name. Andrew laughed mirthlessly.

"Lord now, is he?" Lizzie turned to look at him, obviously surprised.

"Yes. I mean… that's how he introduced himself."

"I suppose one can buy anything these days," Andrew said disparagingly. "Even a title. Although I wonder whose he stole. He's a powerful wizard, make no mistake, but a very selfish man. He would use you without any qualms as to how you may feel."

"No he wouldn't!" Lizzie cried out, making Andrew snicker and nip at her neck. She flinched, scared of him and his caresses.

"You poor deluded little girl. I knew Joshua from my past. He was a pupil of mine when I still took on apprentice wizards. He was a wonderful wizard. And a cruel man. You're lucky I rescued you when I did."

"Rescued me?" she nearly yelled. "You practically kidnapped me!"

"I can't kidnap that which is mine," Andrew pointed out, his hand gliding upward along her torso, coming to rest just below her chest. She trembled in his arms, wishing she could be somewhere else, anywhere else. Lizzie lapsed into silence, not wanting to continue this conversation. Escape wasn't an option and she could tell that screaming would just upset him even more. She felt so foolish for wanting to find out about Andrew Gilld and she hoped that she hadn't somehow drawn him back by wondering about him. Wizards were so inexplicable and this one more so than others. And his touches were making her more uncomfortable by the minute. She fervently wished she had not left Joshua. That he could be here with her now. For one lunatic moment, she dreamed that it was Joshua who was holding her tight and riding away with her, not this terrible stranger who she was betrothed to.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, jolting her out of her delusional desires.

"Just childish dreams," she answered him, forcing herself to be brave. This didn't need to be terrible, did it? The memory of Maurice falling to the ground, a knife protruding from his back made her afraid of the answer.

-.-,-.-

"_Lizzie_!" Joshua roared angrily, watching as the horse leapt away. He stood in the yard, shirt flying open and sword gripped in white knuckles. He knew that black stallion, recognized the strange designs worked in glimmering gold on the saddle and he knew that profile. Andrew had come home.

"Damn!" he swore, kicking the water trough with as much force as he could muster. "Damn, damn, DAMN!" The last shout was when he stubbed his toes on the hard metal. He had to go after her, he knew that. Joshua would never abandon her to such a fate, especially now. She meant too much to him, loathe though he was to admit that. Besides, he was duty bound to protect her. He went to the stables, putting the reins onto one of the carriage horses as swiftly as he could and not even bothering to find a saddle. He could torture himself bareback for this.

Mounting with an easy grace, Joshua spurred the horse out through the gate and onto the road. The horse skidded to a halt, seeing a strange bundle in the middle of the road. Joshua, more concerned about catching Andrew, swung down and knelt by the heap of clothes. A soft moan came from within. Joshua swore and moved aside the dark cloak to see if he could do anything quickly for whatever poor person was inside.

"Josh…" groaned the man as Joshua eased his hand under the man's head.

"Maurice," he breathed, seeing the face. A moment later, his eyes saw the knife. Joshua broke into a string of curses, most of which he made up on the spot. He didn't have the time to deal with this now, not with his Lizzie in danger. Joshua ignored the possessive added on to her name and placed his hands atop Maurice's body. "You don't even deserve this much," he told the man angrily, but he let the lightning sharp magic come out and make him disappear in a flash of magic. That taken care of, he remounted his horse and raced off into the night after Andrew.

-.-,-.-

"Please don't hurt me," Lizzie begged, his hands tightening around her own.

"What did you just call me?" he hisses, his eyes locked on her own.

"I'm sorry," she cried, his hands bruising her. "Please stop." Andrew's eyes narrowed as he looked at her; lips swollen from brutal kisses and arms black-and-blue from his touch.

"Sorry?" he mocked, his voice bitter. "Sorry, Lizzie? Sorry is not what I want to hear? I'd rather you tell me why you were calling his name."

"I was frightened," she answered, losing all her usual strength and composure. "I…I… forgive me, sir, I knew not what I said!"

"I am your husband," Andrew hissed, loosing her hands to tilt her chin up to face him. They stood in a small clearing, far away from the road. "I am your lord and master. And if I ever hear the name Joshua again, you will wish you had never been born."

"I hadn't meant to upset you," she breathed, running her tongue over the deep bites in her lower lip. She hated Andrew, hated him for the callous way he touched her, the cruel way that he treated her and she hated him for taking her away from all she had ever loved.

"But you had," he answered, watching her lazily. "Tell me something, Lizzie." She looked at him questioningly. "Why exactly are you so reticent to leave a selfish bastard hell bent on revenge?" Lizzie's mind cried out that he was neither selfish nor hell bent on any revenge—he was a good man, far better than the one who was with her at the moment. But that would be as good as signing her death warrant.

"I don't know," she answered finally. "I suppose we don't always make decisions based on logic."

"What do you feel for him?" he asked sharply. The truth came unbidden to her mind, but she could not answer him, could not say those words. Neither could she lie, for the falsehood died on her tongue. She remained silent, hoping that he would not interpret it correctly. Unfortunately, Andrew was an accomplished wizard and a talented judge of men as well. "You love him," he growled, his eyes burning with rage. He backhanded her forcefully across the face, making her fall backwards onto the coarse grass with a frightened cry. "You little whore, you love him!"

Lizzie had never been in a situation like this before, never faced a furious wizard who was in total control of his magic. "Stop!" she screamed as he stood over her and laughed.

"Of all the ironies," he growled, "that my bride would have fallen for that boy." He raised his foot and placed it in the center of her chest. She lay on her back, staring up at him with mortal terror in her eyes. He was pleased to see her so submissive, pleased to have broken the will of such a fiery beauty. "You are mine," he purred, straddling her and laughing manically. She struggled against him, but he subdued her with harsh kisses and rougher caresses. But it was only when he tore off her dress, exposing her to the night sky and his lecherous gaze that she screamed.

-.-,-.-

"I will find her," Joshua swore, galloping at breakneck pace through the forest. "I have to find her." He twisted the reins between his hands, guiding the horse expertly with his knees. The intensity of his emotions was driving him insane. All of his memories of her flooded his mind—the first time she had met him and their shy banter which slowly grew into the gentle teasing of friends and sometimes even the subtle flirting they were both so proficient in. He could admit to himself that this little charade of theirs had been solely so that he could go around and introduce her as his fiancée. He admitted that whatever he felt for her, it was something that filled him beyond belief and made him wonder how the hell he had ever survived without her. He was one step away from admitting that he was in love.

Joshua reined his horse suddenly, making the animal rear up for a brief moment before stopping. Joshua squinted into the trees, seeing the tiny glimmer of magic. It was nearly invisible, but he had known it would be somewhere.

Joshua dismounted, tethering the horse to the nearest tree before racing off into the forest towards the shimmer. He swore when he drew up to it, immediately able to identify the spell as a glamour to hide the majestic black stallion tethered there. Andrew could not be far from here, but where was he?

A voice rang out in the silence of the nighttime wood; the voice of a tortured, frightened young girl crying out, crying his name. There was no more noise, but the one word had its affect. Joshua started running towards the sound, his blood cold in his veins. He could imagine what he was doing to her, how he was torturing his Lizzie. He would save her, he swore it by all the gods in heaven.

Joshua burst through the trees into a small clearing. A tall man stood before him, wearing a cloak of midnight black and golden lining. "Welcome," he taunted. "What took you so long?"

"Where is she?" Joshua hissed, not bothering with the preliminary games the other man played.

"Patience, child, patience. Have I taught you nothing?"

"Other than cruelty, sadism and torture, no, you haven't," Joshua answered, his temper getting the better of him.

"I wonder what she sees in you?" Andrew murmured.

"Hopefully nothing of you."

Andrew smirked. "I bid you farewell, little boy. Farewell for now. But I'm back now and the half grown pup will have to learn his place in the pack."

"The 'half grown pup' has gotten older and will not bow to any cur who claims to rule."

"You had better watch that tongue of yours."

"Get out!"

"Make me." Joshua stared at the man in disbelief. They were both used to being _the_ powerful wizard and this impasse had them both at a loss. Joshua took a deep breath and did something he had sworn never to do.

"I acknowledge that which I am, that which I always was, that which I shall ever be," he whispered, the words wrenching his gut like a knife. "I am that I am and I accept the stain of blood." He stared at Andrew, whose face had gone chalk white as he realized that he had crossed the line, forced Joshua to make the only choice that would have helped him. "Out, damn spot," Joshua sneered, reveling in the moment of power. Lightning crashed, thunder boomed and then all was silent. Andrew was gone. For the first time, Joshua could see the figure behind him, the body he had been blocking.

"Lizzie," Joshua mewled, falling to his knees next to her. She lay on the ground, naked and her abdoman and thighs were covered in a lurid swirl of white and red fluids that contrasted brutally well with the bruises on her face and shoulders. Joshua wanted to gag, but his heart ached too much to even give his stomach any consideration. He waited with bated breath, watching for the rise and fall of her chest, listening for her breathing. "Thank God," he whispered as he saw the shallow movement. He took off his cloak and, as gently as he could, laid it atop her. His hands brushed her shoulder for but a moment, but it was enough to make her cry out in fear. A lump rose in Joshua's throat as he forced himself to acknowledge what Andrew had done to his precious Lizzie.

"Joshua," she gasped, her voice barely louder than an echo.

"Shush," Joshua said soothingly, lifting her carefully and wrapping the cloak around her like a blanket as he did so. "Don't worry, we're going home."

"I tried to fight him," she said, each word laboriously articulated. "I tried."

"He's gone now," Joshua reassured her, walking back to his horse. She nestled against his chest, letting his warm arms embrace her. Lizzie slipped into unconsciousness, her mind refusing to deal with the trauma of the rape she had just undergone.

Joshua reached his horse and, after a brief moment as he attempted to mount a horse without either hand free, he used magic to seat himself on the animal. Guiding it carefully, he urged the horse into a smooth canter. It was only then that the first tear leaked out from under the mask and he buried his face in the hair of the woman he was losing even as he learned to love her.

**_To Be Continued_**

2nd A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers who encouraged me to keep writing this and informed me that three months is a rather ridiculous amount of time to wait for me to write five pages. They're right and thank you for your support and nagging, both of which have affects on how fast this is done…let me clarify. I don't write for reviews, I write for myself. Lizzie and Joshua are characters in a novel I am in the middle of writing… well, mid-end, that I eventually hope to publish. This story came about from a dream I had about Beauty and the Beast and I found myself putting the characters from that novel into the tale as old as time and it snowballed. I started it as a little side thing so I haven't divided my time equally and so I need to be reminded this exists because I have no plans to abandon it. I'm just rather slow, shall I say. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this far and, as always, reviews welcome and my undying gratitude to all of you who have reviewed until now—you make my day and we authors would be nothing without you, our readers.

Damian


	8. You Pierce My Soul

Chapter Eight

Joshua sat in a large, comfortable chair with one hand resting on the arm rest and the other supporting his chin. He was still dressed in the same shirt and breeches he had been wearing for the past thirty six hours;none ofwhich had been spent in sleep. He had ridden back to his brother-in-law's castle like a madman and arrived at the gates in the predawn darkness that made even the familiar landscape seem dangerous to the precious burden held ever so carefully in his arms. His mind flew back to those manic hours as he stared at the unmoving form asleep in his bed.

Lizzie had remained unconscious the entire ride home, nestled conscientiously against him. Joshua had been grateful for that, since that meant she hadn't seen him crying like a child. The tears had trickled down his face and into her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, nuzzling her cautiously, terrified of the emotions that coursed through his body. He had always been cool and detached, able to face any situation with a dry wit and sarcasm that had become his trademark. But not anymore. Lizzie had changed all that. Being around her made him into someone new, someone he had never known before. And the thought of losing her now was one he would not, could not entertain.

Joshua burst through the palace gates like a bat out of hell. He dismounted, shouting for one of the servants to take care of his horse, and entered the house with an angry stride that would have made all cringe from him in fear. The castle had all been asleep and Joshua had a feeling that they didn't want to be woken up by another set of casualties tonight, since he had sent Maurice here with a knife in his back but a few hours earlier. Besides, he was trained in healing, though he disliked using his powers unless he had to.

Joshua carried Lizzie up to his room, feeling a momentary pang of worry as he set her down on his own bed. But he told himself that he didn't want to let her go anywhere else in case someone found out about her and, in truth, the thought of letting her out of his sight was intolerable.

Biting his lips worriedly, Joshua unwrapped his cloak from around her and forced himself to, once again, look at the atrocity of what Andrew had done. It was terrible—the small bruises that he had seen before had bloomed into spectacular black and blue marks and her entire lower body until her knees was covered in pinkish, dried liquid. With a disgusted grimace, Joshua went to the ewer by his dresser and dipped the towel into the magically warmed water. He wrung it out a little then began the long process of washing her clean. Though the situation was quite possibly the least romantic he had ever been in, he couldn't help but admire her. Joshua was gentle as he washed Lizzie clean, swearing with every moment to avenge himself on the bastard that had done this.

Once she was no longer covered in the remains of her ordeal, Joshua gently began to rub ointment onto the dark bruises. It pained him to see her so hurt and alone, lying there. All he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Joshua smiled tenderly and dropped a kiss on her forehead, unafraid to show his affection when he was the only one who could know about it.

He pulled the duvet out from under her and tucked her in. Her hair was spread around her on the pillow, like a dark halo around his fallen angel. He had sunk into the chair, exhausted and upset, but he could not fall asleep until he knew that she was okay. So he remained there, shut up in his room without food or sleep, just waiting for his beauty to awaken.

Lizzie found herself being drawn out of a very strange dream. She had felt as though she was lying on a cloud made of shimmering silk and as she floated forward, a hole in the cloud grew and threatened to swallow her up. As she fell through, she woke up with a start, terrified of plummeting to death. In those first few moments between sleep and wakefulness, she thought she was still ensconced in the cloud, enveloped in its warmth. But when she opened her eyes, she found that the soft, downy like material around her was actually a goose feather duvet that smelled oddly familiar. She looked around the room in which she found herself. It was unfamiliar to her, decorated in muted shades of green and ebony. 'Where am I?' she thought to herself. In that one moment, the events of two nights previous came flying back with a vengeance to haunt her. She gasped in despair as she remembered what her tormentor had done to her. Lizzie found her arms wrapped around herself, hugging her body and curling up into a small ball, unmindful of the pain in her legs and abdomen. She drew the only conclusion possible, that she was now in the bedroom of her rapist, looking forward to naught but life as his whore and prisoner.

"Lizzie," called a soft voice from behind her, but she paid it no need, lost in a world of her own hurt. A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder and she jumped in fear. "Hush," said a soothingly familiar voice. "Don't worry, Lizzie." The hand rubbed her back tenderly as the voice continued to calm her with murmured nothings. Lizzie could finally place the voice and dared to open her eyes and look up into the face she knew would be staring down at her.

"Joshua," she breathed, meeting his sea green eyes. He smiled broadly at her and knelt by the side of the bed. "Joshua, where am I?"

"Erm," he began, sounding rather embarrassed, "You're in my bedroom."

Lizzie's eyes went wide. "I'm in your bedroom?"

"I couldn't think of anywhere else safe for you!" he said defensively. "What else was I supposed to do?"

She just shook her head and laughed softly. Josh stroked her cheek, which made her smile a little as well. They stared at each other for a long while, words that could not yet be spoken passing through their smoldering gaze. Lizzie looked away first, the memories of agony fresh in her mind.

"Well," Joshua said, "How do you feel?"

"Awful," she answered truthfully. "I'm trying not to remember what happened." Joshua shook his head.

"Lizzie, if you do that, it will haunt you until the day you die," he said.

Lizzie trembled. "It will anyway," she whispered. Joshua, abandoning all pretense of propriety, pulled her into his arms and held her as tight as he could. Her arms snaked around him, pressing against his back as she reveled in the feelings of safety and protection that practically radiated from him. She didn't even notice that his hands were on her bare back and his silk shirt was the only thing between her chest and his. Joshua noticed, but thought it a much better idea not to comment.

"I… I…" she stuttered, clutching at him.

"Shh," Joshua murmured tenderly. "It's alright now. Everything's going to be alright.

Lizzie laughed bitterly. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I'm never going to let you out of my sight again," he answered, turning his head so that they were cheek to cheek. "So you don't really have to worry, do you?"

Lizzie pulled back and stared at him, surprised. His eyes were drawn rather irresistibly to her bare chest and she suddenly realized that she was completely unclothed. Turning a brilliant shade of vermillion, Lizzie dove back beneath the duvet and hid so that naught but her hair was visible. Joshua couldn't help himself and burst out laughing.

"Oh, poor Lizzie," he said, nearly crying with mirth.

"Go away," she mumbled clinging tighter to the blanket.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Joshua said, his voice suddenly perfectly serious. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. I want to make sure that we can still laugh together and spend time together and that everything could just go back to how it was." Joshua had no idea where these words were coming from; the bottom of his heart didn't even begin to explain it. "If I could, I would erase every vestige of that bastard's actions, but I can't. I wish I had been there to protect you, but I wasn't." He cringed and fought back tears. "I'm so sorry." Lizzie slowly peered out from underneath the covers to see Joshua sitting above her with his fists clenched and his eyes shut tight. She let one hand creep out and hold his.

"I wish you could too," she replied, clinging to him. He accepted her cautious attempts at comfort and summoned one of his nightshirts.

"This is going to be enormous on you," he said, putting it in her hands. "I'll turn around so that you can get dressed."

"Thanks," she said, pulling the garment on as soon as she was sure he was no longer looking. It came down to her knees was loose enough to hide her under it. "I feel like I'm dressed in a tent," she grumbled good naturedly.

Joshua turned back around. "I don't know, I think it's rather fetching." They grinned at one another before she flung herself back into his arms.

"I hate him," she hissed, her previous attempts to pretend that what had happened was just a nightmare was failing miserably.

"Me too," he said, caressing her hair and fighting the impulse to kiss her. He gently lifted her up into his arms and carried her to his chair. He let her curl up against him and kept his arms locked around her—fighting the fierce feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel like it was going to drop out any minute.

"How could he do this to me?" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Because he's a terrible bastard," Joshua answered, more for himself than for her.

"I noticed that," she answered, unable to help herself. "I'm sorry I was mad at you about him. I think I understand where you're coming from a little better."

"Yeah," Joshua agreed. "But that's all over now."

"How is it all over?"

"I'm going to kill him," Joshua answered. "I sent him away once, I can kill him the next time."

"How did you send him away?" Lizzie whispered, trying to distract herself and doing a fair to middling job of it. "He's a rather powerful wizard."

"Are you insinuating that I'm not?" Joshua replied, tapping her on the nose with a smile.

"More powerful than him?"

"More…resourceful. Believe me, you're safe with me."

"I know."

They lapsed back into silence. Joshua was thinking of her and her only, while Lizzie's thoughts were occupied in a much more unpleasant manner. She could not erase the memory of his hands from her mind, the thought of his touch, his lips, his body. She cringed, trying not to remember.

"Lizzie," Joshua breathed, stroking her cheek. "Tell me about it."

"No!" she answered vehemently.

"It'll help," he insisted, gently drawing her out of her shell. "I know what happened, I saw it. And I promise you'll feel better if you talk about it."

"Are you sure?" she sniffled, wanting to talk and yet, at the same time, wanting to hide any trace of her ordeal.

"Positive." So she steeled herself and told him what had happened. Joshua was a good listener, attending to her every word and encouraging her when the memories became too hard for her to handle.

Lizzie finally finished. She took one last deep breath, then buried her face in his chest again. He let her, mulling over her words. Joshua had known what had happened, but knowing it and hearing it from _her_ mouth were two totally different things. The desire to assert to himself that he will die for his crimes resurfaced, but he knew that, except in very specific circumstances, speech was nigh on useless. And neither of them were ready to take on Andrew. She needed to recover her inner strength and he had to prepare himself. But at least there was a silver lining to this terrible storm cloud. He knew the identity of Rose's kidnapper and what he was after. Andrew wanted revenge on Maurice and, through that, he would be able to reach… Joshua stopped that train of thought, though his mind had already filled his own name in there. He wants to hurt me, he was forced to admit. I'll never be free of him, not now, not until the day he dies. Which won't be soon enough.

"What are you thinking about?" Lizzie asked nervously.

"Whether I should have him hanged, drawn and quartered or hanged, drawn and eighthed," Joshua answered his voice perfectly serious,

"I'd prefer the latter."

"I'll even let you help wield the axe," Joshua offered gallantly, smiling and brushing a thin tendril of hair from her eyes.

"How…generous of you." Lizzie couldn't help but feel a little better, at least on the shallowest of levels. Just being with Joshua made her feel better already. And it was that thought that drew her back down into the depths of despair.

"What is it?" Joshua asked worriedly as Lizzie wrenched herself out of his lap and stormed away, trembling visibly. He was up immediately, following her as she sat down on his bed and tucked herself up into an infinitesimally tiny ball. Her knees were hugged defensively to her chest and her hair fell around her like a protective curtain. Her eyes were dry, but that was merely because she had no tears left to cry. "Lizzie, what happened?" His voice rose a little higher than usual from panic and he cringed, wishing that he sounded more like a twenty five year old wizard of great power and less like a scared pubescent boy.

"Go away," she said, her voice shaky.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Joshua said unequivocally. "If I did anything wrong, I-"

"That's just the problem," she nearly howled. "You haven't done a single thing wrong! Jesú, this would be so much easier if you had."

Joshua paused, his hand an inch away from touching her back. "You _want_ me to do something wrong?"

"No!" She buried her face in her hands. "I just don't want to feel like I can have something I can't."

"What do you mean?" He put his arm around her and she shrugged it off.

"You're not a woman," she told him, her voice calming slightly. "You don't understand what rape means." She looked up at him, her eyes deep wells of despair. "It means that you are defiled, disgusting, worthless. You have been broken; something is wrong with you. Losing the mark of a virgin is worse than losing your life. You could never understand."

"Lizzie," he breathed, laying a hand on her cheek; wanting to tell her that it didn't matter, that he didn't care. He would love her until the end of time, whether she was a virgin or a whore, though the latter wouldn't please him much.

"Get away," she hissed. "I don't want you to be close to me, I don't want a reminder of what I'll never have."

"Never?"

"There are, perhaps, three men on this entire earth who would marry a girl without the skills of a peasant or the white of a virgin. And that's leaving my own happiness out of the accounting." She stared at him. "It's quite hopeless." She believed those words whole heartedly and was not searching for false comforts. She was just trying to explain what she knew deep down; that she was broken, worthless. His answer, however, astounded her.

"Three?" he asked, not quite sure what exactly he was about to say or caring. The adoration he felt for her, the love that he could no longer suppress had to come out in words and she had given him the perfect opening. She turned to him and was about to reply acerbically, but he cut her off. "Lizzie, you only need one." Her jaw dropped.

"Joshua, did you completely miss the poi-"

"Of course not," he answered, pressing one finger to her lips. He hated to admit it, but he was enjoying himself. "You only need one man to love you forever...don't you think you have him already?" Her frightened eyeslocked on Joshua's perfectly serious green eyes, expressionless as the mask that covered his face.

"Joshua…" she whispered, her voice so quiet as to nearly not exist at all.

"I love you," he said, surprised at how easily those three weighted words left his lips. "More than anything in the world." She looked away, terrified of the feelings inside of her, the way that his words pierced her soul. He watched her, half agony, half hope and waited for her reaction.

"Do you really love me?" she asked, looking up at him with such adulation in her eyes, he actually thought his heart stopped beating for a moment.

"I can do naught else," was his gentle reply. "I adore you, Lizzie." Her hands reached up of their own accord and tangled in his hair. Smiling, he drew her close and held her. She pressed her cheek to his, saying nothing, just standing there and letting the sheer ecstasy of being loved overwhelm her.

"Well," he said softly. "Do you love me back?" Lizzie knew he was only asking to hear her say the same words as he had, cross the same bridge he had.

"I do," she answered. With all the care and tenderness he had, Joshua bent his head and pressed his lips against her own. Her hands tightened around his neck and she shut her eyes, one last tear leaking out from beneath them. It trickled down her face and brushed Joshua's lips as he pulled away for the first time.

"Why do you cry?" he asked her, catching the tear before it fell.

"I don't know," she answered shakily. "Perhaps it's because you've drawn away." He smiled at the shy invitation and the feeling behind her words.

"I think I can fix that," he murmured in her ear before touching his lips to hers again. They sat there, wrapped in one another's arms until Joshua finally fell asleep with his love held close.

_To Be Continued_

A/N – Aww. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Don't worry, Lizzie and Joshua aren't going to be like this for the rest of the story; this was an extenuating circumstance. They'll get all snarky and sarcastic again. And if you think it's going to get easier just because they've woken up and seen what's been in front of their faces all along, you've got another thing coming. Hopefully I'll update a little sooner, now that I'm on a roll here...Yeah, and pigs will fly. Review, it's the only way to guilt trip me into doing anything!

Love,

Levana (Damian)


	9. The Deeds of the Fathers

_**Chapter 9**_

It was a dark and stormy night. Outside, lightning struck with the brutal fiery anger that so rarely occurred in real life and the thunder crashed like the hoof beats of some enormous divine horse. The trees shook and the even the castle itself seemed to tremble. Belle stared out the window; she had been sitting vigil by her father's bed for hours, waiting for him to wake up from the sleeping draught he had been given. The atmosphere matched her inner mood far too well and she shivered slightly, wondering if anyone could possibly be at peace now. A five minute walk down the halls, however, would have answered that question in the affirmative.

Lizzie tucked her legs in closer, held tight in the arms of her… fiancé. The word felt so strange; though she and Joshua had pretended to be engaged for the past two months. It was true now. She was going to marry him. She was grateful for his protection, both socially and physically. She was still vulnerable, the scars on her soul were far from healed and had barely even scabbed over. One wrong step and they would all open up again.

Joshua's hand slid low on her hips as he shifted in his sleep. Her stomach tensed and, after taking a deep breath to reassure herself that he would never hurt her, she gently repositioned her arm so that it was once again around her waist.

'Why am I so frightened?' she thought to herself as she slowly traced circles on the top of his hand. 'He was kissing me but a moment ago.' But that was different. She had wanted that kiss for so long, it hadn't even occurred to her to associate it with Andrew's… actions. She laid her head on his chest. Her trust in her rescuer was absolute, but there were some lines that not even he could cross and, right now, anything beyond a hug or a kiss would send her into terrible flashbacks.

'Why me?' she couldn't help but ask herself. Lizzie knew it was a ridiculous question, for no one could ever answer it. And yet, she couldn't help but wonder why she had to suffer.

"It doesn't matter," she told herself fiercely, shutting her eyes and turning her head so that her face was pressed against her fiancé's shoulder. He sighed contentedly in his sleep as she tried to tell herself that it was all over now, that it was in the past and could be forgotten. But, as she knew too well, the worst part of telling yourself something was that a person always knew when he or she was lying.

',.-.,'

Joshua opened his eyes, feeling as if he had been asleep for at least a week. He reached up to stretch, but a sharp elbow to his ribs soon put a stop to that. "Ow!" he yelped, wondering where in heaven's name that had come from. It took him a moment before he remembered what had happened and he wanted to leap into the air and thank all the gods in heaven for that which they had given him.

"Don't try to move again," Lizzie grumbled. "I was comfortable!"

"I wasn't," Joshua answered, pushing her off so that he could stretch his legs. Lizzie fell to the side and, with a mischievous grin that she succeeded in hiding from him, rolled a little too far and off the bed. She knew the steps leading to the enormous canopy bed would serve to break her fall. Joshua immediately lunged for her, worry and fear replacing amusement in the blink of an eye. She laughed softly as he looked down and saw that she had not, in fact, fallen.

"You little minx!" he exclaimed, making her laugh. She got to her feet and stretched. Joshua pretended he wasn't staring. "What time is it?"

"Around three in the morning," Lizzie answered, trying to untangle her hair with her fingers.

"Three?" Joshua repeated, not quite believing her.

"Yes," was her reply. Joshua sighed, feeling far too refreshed to go back to sleep, and got out of bed.

"Here," he said, taking one of the combs sitting on top of one of the dressers. "Allow me." He began to slowly comb out her hair, enjoying himself tremendously as the soft silken strands ran through his fingers.

"Ow," Lizzie cried out as he worked slowly at a particularly nasty knot.

"It's your fault," he answered, brutally unsympathetic. She pouted.

Joshua finally finished before putting the comb down and kissing her neck where it wasn't covered by her hair. She jerked away, spinning around to face him. "Don't do that," she said, gulping deep breaths of air and refusing to look at him.

"What happened?" Joshua asked, genuinely confused and not just a little worried.

"Nothing," Lizzie answered, remembering another man's mouth there, sharp teeth that broke her skin and claimed her without loving her.

Joshua, knowing the gist of what was haunting her, drew her back into his arms. "I didn't mean to remind you of him," he whispered, those words rending his heart for he feared to get close to her if all his touch could do was plunge her into a waking nightmare.

"You don't," she answered forcefully. Joshua raised an eyebrow in reply. "It's just… it could be anyone. If they touch me in certain places or-"

"I sincerely hope it can't be anyone," Joshua rejoined, kissing her nose. "I don't intend to let _anyone_ touch you."

"Other than you, of course."

"Of course." They smiled at one another, the happiness at their newly confessed love overriding any residual fears. "Now, am I allowed to kiss you?" He was fairly sure the answer would be yes, but…

Lizzie smiled, knowing that the feeling of his lips on hers was one sensation that could never remind her of Andrew. "Why don't you find out," she said coquettishly. He did.

',.-.,'

Maurice stirred, his brain slowly returning to consciousness. The first thing he registered was a throbbing pain in his back. He groaned softly, wondering through a sleep fogged daze how it had come to be there.

"Papa!" Belle cried, unable to contain her excitement as she ran to his side. She took his hand and held it gently. "You're alright! We were so worried…" She trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Maurice held his daughter's hand reassuringly as the memories of the chase came back.

"How did I get here?" he asked her as he tried to remember past that fierce pain in his back, but there was nothing to recall between then and now.

"You just appeared in the main hall," Belle answered. "You had been stabbed in the back, but we didn't know how or why…"

"An old enemy," Maurice replied, though he wasn't really answering her so much as speaking to himself. "I thought he was dead. Apparently, he's not. But how is he back? And why?"

"Why do you think?" said a quiet voice from the door. Belle and Maurice looked up to see Joshua standing in the doorway, one arm around Lizzie who was clad in a long dressing gown. He was still wearing his riding leathers.

"When did you return?" Belle asked in surprise. "I didn't hear you enter."

"We arrived last night," Joshua answered, "And I have my own reasons for my secrecy." Lizzie tried not to roll her eyes—he always adopted that belligerent tone with Maurice and it always led to some sort of altercation.

"Why?" Maurice asked. "Clandestine meetings with your old master?" It wasn't all that difficult for Lizzie to divine who he was referring to and looked up at him, worried about how her fiancé would react to such a terrible accusation.

"Actually," said Joshua, his voice the calm before the storm, "Yes. We had something to discuss." Maurice stared at him, undisguised hatred in his eyes. "I called him to task for kidnapping Rose and throwing a knife into your back."

"You what?" Maurice yelled, nearly sitting bolt upright. Belle pushed him down before he could.

"Did you think I would let him get away with taking my niece?" Joshua demanded. "The attack on you was slightly more understandable, but even still, I could have left you there to die, Maurice. Perhaps I should have. Yes, I challenged him and, more to the point, I won."

"No one can beat him," Maurice objected. "There are no wizards with the powers he has."

"That's true." Joshua admitted. "So I had to cheat a little. You know the saying about midgets standing on the heads of giants?" Lizzie and Belle shared a confused glance, but Maurice nodded, then stared at Joshua in shock.

"You didn't!"

"What choice did I have?" Joshua replied hotly. "He would have killed me otherwise; he would have killed Lizzie!"

Maurice chuckled grimly. "I was wondering if it would be women to make you admit who you truly are."

"Shut up," Joshua snarled.

"Temper, temper."

"I just saved your life, a little gratitude wouldn't be amiss, would it, _Father_?" They glared at one another, saying nothing.

"Joshua, darling," Lizzie said in a voice that meant just the opposite. "Care to clarify for the rest of us?"

"I told you that Andrew and I had a rather unfortunate history?" She nodded. "It goes back a long way. He was my tutor when I was very young—I had potential to be a great wizard, according to him, so he took me under his wing and taught me magic. I was very good, not as good as him, but close. When I was old enough, I began to take parts in his serious spells. They were complicated and, as I found out later, evil. I ignored the cruelty as long as I could, but about seven years ago, I was embroiled in a magic that I hated. I drew out in the middle, ruining the spell and killing him, or so I had thought. But I wasn't powerful enough to kill him; I just…disabled him for a while. He's back now and he wants revenge. On me, on Maurice and on Diana."

Maurice looked at me with haunted eyes. "Diana?" he whispered, his voice shaking.

"Don't get your hopes up, she's still dead," Joshua said, his eyes narrowed. Maurice whimpered.

"Who's Diana?" Belle asked.

"Our mother; a very powerful enchantress."

Belle's jaw dropped. "That's where your magic's from," she breathed, staring at her younger brother in awe. Lizzie couldn't help but smile at Joshua as he stood there uncomfortably.

"You never told me your mother was a powerful enchantress," she rebuked him.

"It never came up in conversation," he answered with a shrug.

"I wonder why not," she drawled. He squeezed her shoulder affectionately.

"So, my story hasn't shocked you yet?"

Maurice glared at him sourly. "Wait until he finishes it."

"What else is there to say?" Joshua asked, his voice dangerously soft. Father and son stared at one another, waiting to see who would cave in first.

"You tell them," Maurice growled. "Or-"

"Or what?" Joshua asked.

"I'll take off your mask."

Joshua stared at him, stunned. "You wouldn't dare."

"Then admit the truth."

"Alright," Joshua said softly, practically leaning on Lizzie for support. She put her arm around his waist and, as gently as she could, guided him to a chair in the corner of the room. He sank gratefully into it and moved to pull her down next to him, but she resisted and just sat on an ottoman at his feet. He kept his hand on her shoulder, more for reassurance than any other reason. Lizzie was very curious about this half explained exchange, but she would wait to ask her fiancé about it, since he seemed terrified of losing this mask. But she couldn't help but wonder.

"Joshua?" Belle asked softly. "What is it?"

"When I said that Andrew and I go way back," he began, his voice sounding dull and wooden, "I meant it. But it begins long before I was born, with two young boys, sons of a semi-prosperous merchant family. One had potential to become a wizard, the greatest wizard the world has ever known. The other had no magic, so he devoted himself to a different sort of magic, inventing. Perhaps it was to prove that he could create just as well as his brother; he was always jealous of his younger brother." He turned to Maurice, "Weren't you?"

"Joshua," said Maurice, his voice low and angry.

"You asked me to tell the story, didn't you?" Joshua replied sedately. "Yes, Andrew is Maurice's younger brother, but he's more than my uncle. Somehow or other, a powerful young enchantress named Diana married the older brother. They had two children before she disappeared on a magical assignment. The older was a boy named Jonathan and the younger was a girl named Belle." Joshua sighed and leaned back. "When she returned from the assignment, she was not feeling well and was often sick. This lasted for three months, at which point her astute husband realized that she was not ill so much as pregnant…with another man's child." Joshua smiled. "I was named Joshua on the assumption that God would save me since no one else seemed all that inclined to. Diana survived childbirth, but never fully recovered. She eventually died from consumption, as did her eldest son. Her heartbroken husband and his daughter moved to a small cottage in a rural village. Diana, however, had a few plans for her daughter and cast a spell- but that's neither here nor there." He smiled, letting everyone else wonder what he was referring to. Lizzie stared at him, two puzzle pieces beginning to fit together. But it couldn't be… could it?

"Anyway, I did not accompany them… or you, since this façade is getting ridiculous. Andrew offered to teach me magecraft and, sick of being called the bastard, I agreed. That's why Andrew hates me so much."

"Because you were his nephew and betrayed him?" Belle asked softly.

"No," Lizzie corrected, drawing the obvious conclusion since Joshua seemed so reticent to admit it himself. "Because Joshua is his son." There was absolute silence as the words sunk in.

"Illegitimate brat," Maurice snarled.

"And whose fault is that?" Lizzie shot back. "Andrew's? Diana's? Or perhaps the man who Diana simply couldn't love well enough to stay faithful to?"

Maurice stared at her, openmouthed. "How dare you," he breathed.

"Let's leave," said Lizzie, feeling oddly elated. "This room has become far too oppressive."

"You didn't have to do that," Joshua said as soon as they were outside the sickroom.

"Even though I wanted to?" Lizzie replied, reaching up towards him. He held her tight.

"You know," Joshua whispered, "I was afraid you'd hate the sight of me once you knew who I was."

She kissed him fiercely. "You're his son, not Andrew himself!"

He stared past her, gazing at the moon as it set slowly. "I'm Andrew Gilld's son," he said, his eyes dark and his voice bitter as if tasting the words for the first time.

"Josh-"

He shook his head and turned back to her. "Thank you." He kissed her tenderly.

"You're welcome," she replied. "In honor of sticking up for you, would you answer a few questions I have?"

"Under one condition." Lizzie looked at him questioningly. "That all conversation occurs over an early breakfast."

She laughed and took the arm he offered so that they could venture down to the kitchen and find something to eat.

_**TBC**_

A/N – Well, I hope I surprised someone this chapter. I rather like Lizzie when she's defending Joshua. And, if you can't tell, I don't like Maurice much. I never have. More about the mysterious Gilld past later, but don't worry. All will be explained, even the stuff I didn't get to here (midget analogy, for one. Not to mention Diana). Update soon, but not at least for another week since I'm going away to England for a week and being a tourist. But enough about my life; please review since it's had such wonderfrous (word coined by my philosophy professor) results so far!

Levana (Damian)


	10. Promises Are Made to be Broken

**_Chapter 10_**

The sun rose slowly over the rose garden, bathing all below it in a gentle yellow glow. The flowers tilted their heads up towards the heavens, begging for the caressing light. There was a figure amongst the blossoms, sitting on his haunches and holding a single blossom in his hands.

"Rose," murmured the Beast softly, remembering how his young daughter had loved playing in these very arbors. It had been four months since she had disappeared and they hadn't seen hide or hair of her with only Joshua's word that she was still alive. He shivered, his fur ruffling

as if from a wind. He trusted his brother-in-law, but how long could he possibly wait?

The sounds of an argument stirred him from his reverie. There were two voices nearby and his sensitive bestial hearing told the Beast that Joshua and Lizzie were in the middle of a vicious sounding altercation. Ever curious and glad for the distraction, the Beast rose up to investigate.

"No!" Joshua yelled, raking his fingers through his hair with exasperation.

"Then what do you expect me to do?" Lizzie rejoined. "Just sit around and wait for you to get yourself killed?"

"I'm not going to die," he said, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper. "You, on the other hand-"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"

"And when Andrew has you back in his bed with his hands all over you, will you be feeling the same way?" Joshua stared at her, watching with a morbid satisfaction as her face turned deathly pale.

"You little-" she began before stopping and staring down at the ground. Joshua, knowing that he had won, tilted her head up and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth.

"I love you," he said, amazed at how easily those words now came to his lips.

"So I've heard," Lizzie muttered, purposely not responding to his affection.

"This isn't up for discussion," he told her severely. "I'm not letting you get hurt again!"

"But I'm supposed to let you go?" Lizzie replied, the heart of the matter coming to the surface. "You've been with me for what, eight hours now? And I'm just supposed to let you go and die?"

"I won't be killed," he repeated, his eyes fixed seriously on hers.

"Can you promise that?" she challenged. He didn't reply; he couldn't.

"Lizzie," he began, not really knowing what he was trying to say. She shrugged and started walking away. "Lizzie!" he called again.

She turned around, looked at him with a beautiful but sad eyed gaze, and reentered the castle. Joshua swore in about four different languages as he stared at her retreating back.

"What was that about?" asked a nearby voice. Joshua spun around, and then visibly relaxed as he identified the intruder as his brother-in-law.

"An argument," Joshua answered shortly, not really wanting to delve into the affair.

"I gathered," drawled the Beast dryly. "Since when have you two had such virulent lover's spats?"

"Since last night when I asked her to marry me," Joshua answered nonchalantly. The dumbfounded stare he received was rather gratifying. "What, Vincent, are you that surprised?"

"Not surprised," came the correction. "Pleased. It certainly took you two long enough. But why would you want to leave?"

Joshua sighed. "Do you want the long answer or the short?"

"Short please," replied Vincent.

"We've found your daughter."

"What?" Joshua waited for his brother-in-law to say something to which he could actually reply and the torrent of questions that followed could not have served better. "Where is she? Is she safe? When can I see her? When can she come home? Who took her? Why did her take her?

How-"

"Slow down!" Joshua said, resting a hand on Vincent's shoulder. "She's safe for now and I'll have her home soon, I promise. I just need to 'discuss' something with her abductor?"

"Who is?" Vincent pressed.

"Lord Andrew Gilld, my father." Vincent stared blankly at him. "I'm not actually Maurice's son," Joshua said with a sigh, sick of this story. "I'm the product of an illicit affair between his wife and brother, Andrew."

"You're Gilld's heir?" he breathed, unable to believe what he saw.

"I'm Gilld's heir," Joshua agreed, "Loathe though I am to admit it. And Andrew has your daughter as bait for his brother and me. So I'm going to negotiate with him about kidnapping family members of mine."

"Which is why your fiancée is so upset," Vincent finished. "I must say, Joshua, I see her point."

Joshua stared at him. "Did you miss the part about your daughter?" he practically yelled.

"Of course not," said the Beast, his voice a low growl that testified to his emotions. "But I have absolute faith in you that she'll return unharmed."

"Thank you," said Joshua. "Now could you tell that to Lizzie."

"I wasn't finished," Vincent replied. "You'd give up your own life for this and she'll never forgive you for it."

"True, but I won't be around to deal with it," was Joshua's bitter reply.

Vincent smiled and rested a gentle paw on Joshua's shoulder. "Take it from someone who knows. Duty is the easiest way to lose someone you love. Even if it's the only way, don't push her away. She obviously wants to be a part of your life, God help me if I know why, so you'd be an idiot to isolate her already."

"She thinks I'm going to get myself killed if I go," Joshua grumbled half-heartedly, surprised that he was having such a brotherly talk with Vincent.

"Is she right?" Vincent asked, his eyes fixed on Joshua's.

"I hope not," he forced himself to admit.

"Then I suggest you talk to her about it, not an argument, a real conversation. She deserves it."

"I know," Joshua whispered. He refused to be maudlin, however, so he grinned at Vincent. "Thanks, I'm glad someone has some sense around here."

"Good, so once you've spoken to Lizzie, we'll discuss when we leave for Andrew."

Joshua glared at him. "Not we, me."

"This is my daughter."

"I'm his target, I'm the only one with the power to deal with him," Joshua retorted angrily.

"I'm coming along, if only to keep you company until you get there. We'll decide if you attack alone later."

Joshua paused. "We'll finish this later, I have to speak to Lizzie."

"Yes, you do." Joshua stalked off and Vincent hid a fanged smile. He knew Joshua too well to panic about Rose; she would be safe soon. But he liked that brave young girl they had found to help out and the thought of Joshua finally in love was definitely worthwhile. No, all in all, he had no reasons to fear. They did.

Joshua didn't know where Lizzie had gone, but there weren't very many places where she would be and so, after checking her room and the abandoned breakfast table, he found her curled up on a chair in the library. His face brightened just at seeing her and he walked slowly to her side.

"Lizzie my love?" he said softly, touching her shoulder.

She sighed. "You know, up until those three words, I was preparing to scream at you."

"I'm good at defending myself," he answered, pulling over an ottoman and sitting down on it. She turned to face him.

"But are you good enough?" He knew he had to be honest with her, knew that she deserved better than lies. But he didn't want to hurt her. "This isn't some fairy tale," she said, leaning forward and gazing earnestly at him. "There's no promised happy ending, Joshua. I don't know if everything will work out perfectly; I'm at fortune's behest and if I lose you?" She trailed off, afraid to voice the words.

He rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms; the joy of embrace had yet to fade and this was still the easiest way to assuage all fears. When they held one another, they were invulnerable. "You won't lose me," Joshua promised. "I'll always be here."

"Physically?"

"I hope."

"If you can't give me a definite yes, I'm not letting you go."

Joshua kissed her pale cheek. "If only it was that easy," he replied. "I wish your command was enough to pull me back."

"And why isn't it?"

"Because if I don't go, Rose will die. Enough innocents have died because I didn't stand up to Andrew. I can't let my niece go that way as well."

She pressed her face against the folds of his shirt, holding on to him as if he was the only thing in her world. And, at that time, perhaps she was. "Bring her home," she whispered, the first tear sliding out from under her eyelids.

"Come," Joshua breathed, sitting down on one of the couches and kissing her. "I love you so much."

"More than anything," she replied, clinging to him.

Lizzie stayed in his lap, curled up against him. Joshua smiled and stroked her hair tenderly, enjoying their newfound intimacy.

"Lizzie?" Joshua murmured. There was no reply. He looked down and saw that she had fallen asleep. He smiled, she had had a long night and he was willing to bet she hadn't slept while he had.

There was a soft knock on the door. Joshua sighed and called quietly for the newcomer to enter. Lizzie stirred but didn't awaken.

"Well?" Maurice asked, staring pointedly at the couple on the couch.

"Well what?" Joshua replied. "And you should be lying down, knife wounds don't heal well if you don't let them."

"I'm not here to discuss my wounds," Maurice said in a tight, angry voice.

"Then what are you here to discuss?" he answered pleasantly, enjoying the power he had over the older man.

"You know full well what," Maurice answered.

"Your granddaughter's perfectly safe," Joshua said with a yawn. "And I'll probably get myself killed in the process, are you happy now?"

"I doubt you'll be harmed," muttered Maurice,

"I'll send you a limb for proof then, shall I?"

"Stop acting like a petulant child," Maurice reprimanded him.

Joshua looked at him, his eyes dark with rage and slowly removed the mask covering his face. Maurice blanched. "A petulant child?" Joshua asked softly, glaring at Maurice with green eyes that practically shone with anger. "You never did understand me, did you? You either saw me as a waste of time or as a copy of my father. You have no idea what I'm going through or what I have to give up for my niece. What I will give up for her. But never forget what you see now. Not all is how it appears on the surface." Their eyes locked and, one second later, Maurice left the room all atremble.

Joshua sighed and got to his feet. Lizzie slipped off his lap and onto the couch. She was awakened by that small movement, though Joshua didn't notice. He was already halfway across the room, standing in front of a small mirror.

"Hideous," he murmured, reaching up to touch his cheeks. "And yet I still don't see it. Why didn't you give me the power to see my own torment?" The mask hung limply from his hand.

Lizzie crept to her feet, seeing the glint of gold clutched in her fiancé's hand. She twisted her head to try and see his reflection; she was so curious to know what he tried so hard to hide from her.

She tiptoed across the room, her slippered feet making no noise on the carpets. Her silken dressing gown whisked noiselessly around her feet and she drew ever closer to Joshua, craning her neck to see beyond his head and gaze at the reflection in the glass.

"Don't even think about it," said a soft voice. Lizzie froze. Joshua's hand brought the mask back up to his face and affixed it so that it was once again covering all his features from brow to mouth. He turned around to look at her, gazing with lazy lidded eyes at the young woman. "Well?"

"Umm," Lizzie stuttered, not quite sure what to say.

"Don't you think I wear this for a reason?" Joshua asked in a calm, reasonable voice.

"Yes," Lizzie answered with a sigh, knowing where this conversation was going. "The reason is so that no one can see your face, I know. But can you blame me for being curious?"

"Curiosity killed the cat," he pointed out with a small grin.

"But satisfaction brought it back," was the prompt reply. She smiled and Joshua, never able to resist that impish grin, wrapped her in his arms and pulled her into a hug.

"I'll make a deal with you," Joshua murmured. "When I get back from this, I'll let you look behind the mask, alright?"

"_When_?" Lizzie asked pointedly.

"When," Joshua repeated, gazing earnestly into her eyes. She nodded, then took his hand.

"Let's go get you ready," she said softly. Joshua smiled and followed her out of the room. If all went well, his face would be healed when he killed Andrew. And if it didn't, he was far more likely to end up a small pile of ashes than any discernable human being. But he was damned if he was going to let Lizzie see him with his own features replaced by those of Lord Andrew Adam Gilld.

**_T.B.C_**

A/N – Thank you all who have read so far and I'm sorry this took longer than the past two (although, I'm pleased to say, I haven't been stalling six months between updates anymore). But I'm on vacation now so, oddly enough, I seem to have less time to write than I had. Oh well. More soon if I can produce it.

Levana (Damian)


	11. Reading Improves the Mind

_**Chapter 11**_

Lizzie sat in bed, the blankets drawn tight around her shivering frame. She couldn't sleep; her dreams were haunted by images of the two men who had power over her life, her fiancé Joshua and his father Lord Gilld. Joshua had left last week, kissing her with all the passion he dared show and promising her that he would return so that they could be wed. And then he had mounted his dark steed and rode off, Vincent by his side. Lizzie's fists clenched; no matter how much sense it made, she still wished that she was the one accompanying him, not the Beast.

"I can't stay like this," she whispered, rising to her feet and slipping her feet into the shoes by the side of the bed. She reached up and put on the dressing gown by the head of the bed, disappearing inside the yards of dark green wool. She smiled and pressed her face to the folds, the smell of her fiancé making her feel just a little better. She knew that rummaging around his room in the dead of night, not to mention sleeping within those walls, was not exactly appropriate but Joshua would understand and no one else would know.

Lizzie snuck out of the room, her slippered feet making no noise on the plush carpeting as she made her way to the library. She needed something to distract her, some way to quell the ache that was his absence. Lizzie smiled, raking her fingers idly through her hair. And to think; she had been so adamant about never losing herself to a man. But Joshua came along and she had no choice; she fell desperately in love with him. And it must be powerful, if she could think about her calm, rational self as being "desperately" anything.

At the door of the library, Lizzie drew to a halt. Since there seemed to be nothing else, she might as well read to pass the time. Entering the room, she found her gaze first drawn to the shelves of poetry, long winding odes that spoke of all the beauty in the fair world and all the pain under the heavens. But she did not wish to read of that now, it struck too close to home. "Perhaps a long boring history would serve me tonight?" she mused, her lips curling in a small smile as she remembered the interminable tomes that had comprised her earlier education.

There was a tall stack of books sitting on one of the reading tables and, ever curious as to what the other occupants were using to amuse themselves, Lizzie strolled over to take a look. She lifted the first book and flipped it idly open. The words on the page were written strangely, starting in the left hand corner and spiraling inwards with strange designs dancing along the edges. Trembling, she set it down.

"What's wrong?" asked a snide voice that sounded like it came from beneath an upturned nose.

"Who said that?" Lizzie demanded, not recognizing the voice. It seemed to come from in front of her, yet she could see no other form.

"Look down, you silly girl." Shocked, Lizzie followed the directions and saw a devilishly handsome face gazing out of the book she had just set down. It took her all of three seconds to decide to slam it shut.

"Ow!" the book yelled, it's voice muffled by the pages. "You little shrew, that hurt!"

"You deserved it!" Lizzie answered stubbornly, fully aware that she was arguing with a set of words and pictures written on a page and not caring.

"Jesus, you really are terrible," the book grumbled. "What does that boy see in you?"

"Who?" Lizzie asked involuntarily.

"How many suitors do you have in this castle?" the book retorted. Lizzie turned slowly around and reopened the book. The face returned, staring at her with the same sneaky eyes and wicked grin.

"How do you know Joshua?"

"He and I are old friends," said the book offhandedly. "He reads me often; I'm quite a powerful grimoire."

Lizzie couldn't believe her ears. "So you helped Joshua learn magic?"

"Well, I suppose you could say that," the book hedged. "I was a gift to him on his fifteenth birthday. He was already quite the powerful wizard then. And his father wanted him to master some of the more…esoteric spells. I had been in the family for generations," it added proudly.

"So you know Andrew as well," Lizzie murmured, a plan beginning to form in her head.

"Don't even go there," the book warned. "I can't tell you any of his 'weaknesses' or stuff like that. It goes against all that I am."

"And what exactly are you?" All trace of fear had left Lizzie's voice, she was amazed and entranced by such magic and determined to learn more about it and the men who controlled it.

"I am the Grimoire, book of black magic."

"So you're evil."

"Oh, look who thinks she knows so much. As it just so happens, I am not evil; I am a bunch of leaves bound together with string and the soul of a magic user."

"And that's not evil," Lizzie scoffed.

"Not when the soul is given voluntarily, no." That gave the young girl pause. "See," said the book, "Don't presume. After all, do you really think Joshua would involve himself in black magic."

"If it meant beating Andrew, perhaps," was Lizzie's cool answer.

"Who made you the judge of all mankind?" the book asked.

"I'm not judging mankind, I'm judging Andrew. And I have firsthand knowledge about his cruelty and malice." The face in the book softened.

"I had forgotten," it murmured. "You were wounded as well."

"I hadn't," Lizzie muttered in reply. "But enough of this. What was Joshua doing in here?"

"He was going off to face Andrew," the book answered. "He needed all the magical support he could garner. He spent most of the time that wasn't with you in the depths of these tomes; seeking new spells or the one charm that could break Andrew."

"Does it exist?"

"One charm, of course not! This is a battle of endurance and wiles, not of some miraculous salvation. It's quality and quantity that must combine to make him the victor."

"Does he have both those?" Lizzie asked, her hand trembling as she laid it down on the table to try and steady it.

"I don't know," was the truthful answer. "He's powerful, but Andrew will force him into a trial by combat. Joshua cannot refuse and there is a good chance that will be the end of him." Lizzie wanted to scream, but her throat seemed to have closed up. She shut her eyes and forced herself to breath normally. She would not lose him, not so soon after finding him.

The book looked worriedly up at her, a pang of empathy passing through its paper heart. She was so young to be subjected to this and she would have to discover the way out on her own; if there was a way out.

Lizzie's breathing slowly returned to normal as she weighed her options. She could either spend the rest of her time fretting away in this castle, waiting like the rest of her sex for the return of a man. Or she could rush foolishly out after him and get herself killed as she tried to save him. She knew better than to do that; that only led to happy endings in books and she wasn't risking her life with Joshua on the words happily ever after. But there was one other alternative.

"Book," Lizzie said softly, fixing her pale blue gaze on the pages below her. "How long would it take for you to teach me everything about magic?"

"Not that long," the book answered, "If you're willing to cheat." Lizzie raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You see, the proper way to learn magic is to start at the beginning and move up. It gives the mages a proper appreciation for magic the hard way and makes them understand the cost of every spell. The other way, which is much frowned upon in all magical societies, is to find a very powerful magic worker and beg them to tell all that they know. They can transfer the knowledge to your head in one easy moment. Then you have to spend a long time working out all the new information and sorting it."

"That's not all," Lizzie murmured. "That's too tempting a shortcut."

The book laughed. "Good girl. The problem with this transfer is that the mage giving the knowledge dies as soon as the spell ends."

"I can see why the magic workers prefer conventional methods," she muttered. The book laughed. "So, how do I find a mage willing to lose his or her life for my cause."

"You don't," answered the book. "You find one that knows it all, but is already dead."

"For example…" Lizzie prompted.

"Think, girl!" The book barked. "Just think!"

"I'd say you," Lizzie replied, "But then why would you be so secretive about it? Unless you merely enjoy being irritating?"

The book snorted. "Where did that boy get such bad taste in women from?" Lizzie merely sighed.

"Look, you don't have to like me, but Joshua needs our help. I want you to teach me everything that Andrew knows."

"And why are you so sure that I know all that he does?"

"It stands to reason, if you were in the Gilld family for generations, you would have been studied by them all. Including Andrew."

"And what if I told you that Andrew sealed off parts of him knowledge within me, so that only he can access it?"

"I would swear fluently," Lizzie answered, trying not to smile.

"As it happens, I could not tell Joshua all the information I would have liked, for he knew better than to ask to be told. But this isn't telling, this is me transferring the entire contents of my memory into yours." Lizzie shivered. "So you will know the information I cannot say, but you will not be able to tell of it either."

"I don't care, so long as I can use it."

"I don't doubt that you can." Lizzie stared at the figure in the book, trying to fathom the murky depths of its eyes. "Do you have any more questions, curious one?" it enquired.

"Just one," Lizzie answered after weighing the numerous issues in her mind and deciding that most could be resolved later. The book looked at her with a 'go on' sort of expression. "If you can grant me all this knowledge, why is it that you could not have given it to Joshua?" She hadn't meant to scream the last part, but she was angry that Joshua might be going needlessly to a death that could have been prevented.

"Joshua doesn't know I exist," the book replied softly. Believe me, if I could have given him this knowledge, I would have. But he cannot see or hear me, I am merely a book with words to him. You're the only one who can see me."

"Why?" Lizzie whispered. "Why me?"

"We share a bond," answered the book. "One that I would tell you of now, but it will be much easier to teach you the magic now and tell you of our joined fates later."

Lizzie nodded. "Do what you must." She was directed to strip. Stifling a terrified shiver, she divested herself of all her clothes and stood naked in the middle of the library floor.

"Hold still," said the book. And the pages began to glow with strange lights. A swirl of blue and pink began in the middle of the page and the sounds of an orchestra began, playing music like none Lizzie had heard before. Sparks shot from the page and the blue and pink fires began to weave together to form a figure. Staring in shock, Lizzie watched as the form of a beautiful enchantress began to take shape. She had long blond hair and cool green eyes, was dressed in a long gown that flowed around her like the tide. She was partially transparent and, as she walked towards Lizzie, the latter shut her eyes so that they weren't blinded by the light.

"Do not be afraid," the apparition whispered right next to her ear. And one moment later, the room shone brighter than the sun and the woman stepped forward into Lizzie, washing over her and melding her knowledge with her. It took but a moment for the ghostly body to disappear, absorbed into Lizzie's own. And then all went dark.

Lizzie fell to the floor, shaken to the core by what had just happened. Her mind was swelled with so much knowledge; centuries of magic had just made their home in her head and she had no idea how to cope with it.

"Relax," said the book's voice from somewhere inside her head. "Just calm down. Take a deep breath."

Lizzie did as the voice directed, focusing on it as if it were an anchor in the maelstrom of her world. A few moments later, she was calm enough to stagger to her feet and pull the dressing gown back on.

"Now," instructed the book. "Sit down in the chair and open yourself up to the memories." Lizzie sat down, allowing the warm comfortable armchair to embrace her. And then she let loose the book's mind on her own.

There were no words to describe what the invasion felt like. It was as if a thousand stimuli were attacking all at once. She immediately understood the strange gift called magic; how it flowed through the veins of the magi and gave them the power to control the world around them. She understood instinctively how the inner force could be used to alter the outside world, the way that the fiery blood in her body would fuel her mind with strange powers; the power to make the impossible happen. She learned of the complicated, multifaceted spells that were used to channel different magics at once and of the simple ones that were merely thoughts before they came true. She was filled, engulfed with the powers as she remembered the sorceress that the book had been and watched her at work. She knew, as if she had done it herself, how to bend the air and water to her will, how to control the animals and the people of the earth, how to make fire dance to her own tune and even how to transform one thing into another. And, best of all, Lizzie felt the wind beneath her as she remembered flight and felt sure that she could duplicate it again.

When she opened her eyes, she found that it was noon. She stretched slightly, keeping Joshua's dressing gown wrapped tightly around her.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" drawled the voice in her head. It was, undoubtedly, the voice of the book although far more feminine sounding than it had been before.

"Very much so," Lizzie answered.

The voice laughed. "You need not speak out loud, child. I can hear any thoughts directed my way.

'Oh.' Lizzie smiled. 'So we will leave for Joshua now?'

"If that is what you wish."

'I must go.' Lizzie started off towards her room, hiding a few times to avoid servant who would not be very pleased to find her wandering around in naught but her fiancé's dressing gown. She reached the room and quickly dressed, reveling in her newfound magic as she changed the girlish riding clothes into something far more appropriate for the deception she had in mind. She knew the dangers of a young woman traveling alone and decided that she would reveal her true identity when she reached Lord Gilld, not before.

She was soon ready and standing on the roof of the castle.

"Do you remember everything?" asked the book's voice worriedly.

'Yes,' Lizzie answered with a sigh. That voice sounded like a worried mother sometimes. Lizzie clambered onto the highest parapet and, screaming the words of magic to the heavens, she launched herself into the air and, as she had dreamed, began to soar amongst the birds.

The first few moments were ecstasy. The magic took care of petty details like the actual problem of flight, leaving her with the sheer joy of movement. She swooped and whirled around the clouds, reveling in simply being alive. This went on for a few minutes before the voice in her head interrupted her.

"If you don't grow up and calm down," it muttered, "I won't tell you my story." There was no worse threat one could make to Lizzie than threaten not to tell her a tale. And so she settled down to a more sedate pace and, relaxing on a strong spring breeze, she listened as the voice began its story.

"My name," it said softly. "Is Diana."

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – Again, I know I've been a little slow with this. School is catching up to me and I'm going mad from trying to find time. And my laptop is dead, so I've been reduced to writing in public computer rooms. Ahh, how tragic is the life I lead. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment, reviews are more than welcome. I hope to bring this tale as old as time to an end soon, but I'm not promising anything. At least three more chapters. Remember, the more you review, the faster I write. And if you know of any perfect men who are lonely and seeking a brilliant, beautiful young author as a companion…well, you know who to contact. Or if you could just find me Joshua, I would be happy then too. Lord, why is it that all great men are fictional? (Fitzwilliam Darcy comes to mind at the moment, closely followed by Frederick Wentworth). But enough of my whining. Farewell!

Levana (Damian)


	12. Down the Rabbit Hole

_**Chapter 12**_

"My name is Diana."

Lizzie's jaw dropped and she was so startled that she nearly fell from the sky, catching herself a good fifteen feet above the woods. Shaking, she returned to her former altitude and confronted the voice angrily. "You're Joshua's mother?"

"I have that honor," the voice drawled in reply.

"I thought you said you had been in the Gilld family for generations."

"I have. Two, to be exact." Lizzie groaned.

"So how did you wind up in the pages of your son's grimoire?"

Diana sighed. "It's a bit of a long story."

Lizzie looked down at the expanse of trees beneath them that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. "Something tells me I have the time to hear it."

Diana's voice in her head chuckled grimly. "Very well, inquisitive child. You shall hear it. As you know I married Maurice Levesque, Belle's father. It was not a love match; it was a way to reassure the world that a sorceress could be controlled. I could have married anyone, but he loved me and so I assumed that I would be best off spending the rest of my life with a man who at least cared for me."

"Such a romantic reason to wed," Lizzie muttered.

"Not all of us can survive in a fairy tale," Diana shot back. "Anyway, we were wed and I lived fairly happily with him, free to pursue my own interests and, in return, providing the money required to keep a household running when the man of the house would rather spend his life in a basement, inventing." Diana groaned. "As you can tell, I had very little respect for that man, though he did adore me. And then our children were born." Her tone took on a wistful note. "Oh, how I loved those little ones. They were perfect in all ways. I lavished them with all the love and attention I had, for she had become my life's focus. And then I was forced to leave. Jonathan and Belle, my marvelous children, stayed home with there father and nursemaid whilst I went off to serve my kingdom. I was, unsurprisingly, matched up with my brother-in-law; a quiet but dangerous man who was both valued and feared among all mages. Our masters had assumed that since we were related by marriage, Andrew would be kept in check. They were wrong. Andrew was a magnificent man, possessed of all the beauty, charm and grace that his brother lacked. He was also coldhearted and cruel, caring only for himself. We became lovers, not because of any affection we felt for one another, but because he was bored and I was curious. He said he had taken care to prevent any unwanted repercussions from our liaison. He had lied, mainly because he wished to have a son who would be the product of two powerful mages. When I returned home and discovered I was with child, I was livid. Maurice was heartbroken and never really returned to the man he was. I wanted, for a few wild moments, to kill the child, but I could not harm it. Andrew had placed numerous protections to ensure that the baby was carried to term and born without mishap. He was born and Andrew appeared that night, informing me that the child's name was Joshua; Andrew always saw himself as some sort of Moses, so the name was apt. Maurice, not being a complete fool, discerned who the father of my son was and dove at the baby with a knife. Andrew flung his brother backwards using pure magical force and laughed.

"'You do not like my son?' he asked mockingly. 'That is a pity indeed, since he must stay somewhere until he is old enough to learn magic. And I wouldn't want to take a child away from his mother.' With a whirl of a cloak, Andrew was gone.

"Joshua grew up in our home, despised by Maurice. I helped him when I could but I was still working and he wasn't my only child. When Joshua was five years old, my eldest son, Jonathan, caught consumption and died. I kept all the other children away and nursed him myself, for magic did not have the power to withstand illness. I caught it as well. Maurice was devastated, but I was rather glad. It would have been nice to be at peace. I had, however, a few things left to do. My first thought was for my daughter. If there was one thing I would not allow to happen to her, it was that she be trapped in a loveless marriage the way I was. Thought it tired me terribly, I spent much of my illness searching the future for a fate that would become her. When scrying, one can only see a possibility, not the only possibility. I looked many times and saw many paths for her, then chose the one I liked best. All that remained was to set it in motion. One night, albeit my illness, I left our home and traveled to the castle of an eleven year old bratty prince."

Lizzie couldn't help herself and burst out laughing. "Does Vincent know that you were the architect of his misfortunes?" she finally managed to gasp out.

"Of course not," answered Diana primly. "Do I look stupid?" Lizzie restrained herself from replying. "And, even if he did, he'd probably be grateful now. The other fates he could have suffered left much to be desired." Lizzie decided she didn't want to know, and instead begged Diana to continue her story. "That settled, I knew I could die in peace. But it occurred to me that I would be giving my son, bastard though he was, into the hands of two men who were equally dangerous to him. I couldn't do that, not even to Joshua."

"Did you ever love him?" Lizzie asked softly, wondering how her beloved had survived with so little compassion from those who should have cared for him.

"Of course!" Diana protested, but her voice betrayed her. "It was a different sort of love, but I did care about him. He was my child." Lizzie shut her eyes and allowed the air to lift them higher. "In order to keep my eye on him, I removed my soul from my body and placed it into the book. For a book is quite like a human being and the pages and ink are the only inanimate objects capable of holding us. It required an enormous amount of magic; far more magic than most people own. In my weakened state, I did not have that magic. But Joshua did. And a child can draw on the parent's magic under certain circumstances. I taught him the spell, then taught him another to repeat afterwards. Drawing on my magic and his own; he sent my soul into the book and then, since he had yet to learn disobedience, he uttered the next spell and made himself forget that it had happened. Maurice found him a few minutes later, shaking my dead body and asking me why I wasn't answering him." Lizzie's heart practically broke on hearing those words. She vowed to herself that she would never allow Joshua to be unloved ever again, no matter what the cost.

"Then what?"

"Then Andrew came and took Joshua back with him to be his apprentice. I had willed all my magical possessions to my son and so the book became his and I was able to watch over him. He is a great wizard and a good man. You've chosen well."

"I know," Lizzie agreed, sighing softly. "He's truly wonderful."

"Don't get too sentimental," Diana said in reply. "It's bad for you." Lizzie grimaced.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Lizzie continued, directing her voice towards Diana. "Why is it that-"

"Wait!" yelled the voice, making her stop suddenly and hover in midair, her hearth thumping painfully.

"What was that for?" Lizzie demanded.

"Descend," Diana directed. "We need to get something." Lizzie looked down and was shocked to see that they were hovering over a clear blue lake. At the edge of the lake stood a rundown, thatched cottage with a waterwheel and a very familiar looking cow in the pasture.

"That's my family's house!" Lizzie gasped.

"Is it?" Diana asked, sounding slightly alarmed. "You can't let them see you now!"

"I figured as much," Lizzie muttered. "They would assume they had gone mad."

"We will be working magic when we land, you must not allow them to become aware of your presence."

"And when you say 'we' will be working magic, I presume that means me."

"Do I look like I have a body with which to perform spells?"

"Do me a favor and inform me what exactly we're doing here."

"Must you know everything?"

Lizzie smirked. "Of course."

"Oh, very well. As you should know already, magic can be enhanced by certain objects. There's really no logic as to why certain materials will do this, but it is a known fact that rowan wood and silver or oak and gold will serve to increase one's magic. I have a wand made of rowan and silver that I gave to Belle long ago with instructions where to leave it. If she followed them, the wand will be hidden in this cottage, your old house."

"Why in here?"

"It was the only safe place I could think of on short notice. Now land on the roof." Lizzie did as she was instructed, feeling very foolish as she clung to the chimney for support. Thatch was not made to be stood upon.

"Now what," she hissed, balancing precariously.

"Now you stop talking out loud," Diana instructed irritably. Lizzie swore something utterly indecent that she had learned from Joshua, which made Diana pretend to gasp. Then Lizzie was instructed to drop down the chimney.

"What?" she yelped, forgetting the injunction not to speak out loud.

"Fall down the chimney," Diana repeated. "Is that really so difficult? And stop speaking aloud."

Lizzie groaned. 'Do I look like St. Nicholas to you?' she muttered, remembering simply to think the thought and not to say it.

"Not yet," answered Diana. "Now go." Grumbling to herself, Lizzie grabbed hold of the bricks and hauled herself on top of it in a most unladylike fashion. Her legs dangled down inside the flue and she perched on the edge, mentally preparing herself to slide inwards. "Hurry up, we don't have all day!" Lizzie clenched her fingers involuntarily, thinking that it was a very good thing that Diana was incorporeal, otherwise she might find herself strangled. Lizzie took one last deep breath, than pushed off of the bricks, falling down the chimney.

It was the strangest sensation of her life. At first, Lizzie waited for the rush of air and sickening dropping of her stomach, but it never came. It felt as if she was sliding slowly downwards. There was a strange glow from up above that decorated everything in a bluish light. Around her were numerous articles of clothing, furniture, books, bric-a-brac and other completely disparate items that floated through the air.

'What is this?' Lizzie wondered.

"It's where I keep all my magical artifacts," answered Diana promptly. "It's safer than under the bed or something. Now watch for the wand to pass by and when you see it, grab for it."

Lizzie nodded and kept her eyes trained on the myriad of objects gliding easily by. The dresses were her favorite by far; made of a material that must have cost a king's ransom and studded with more jewels than it seemed one mine could provide. Diana's memory told her that dresses could be powerful weapons in the right hands; the gems were not just for show but also to bedazzle and confuse the unsuspecting. And, without doing any magic whatsoever, they gave a sorceress power over all the ordinary folk who saw her. The wealth made them speechless and Lizzie wanted very much to own one of those dresses.

Therefore, it was far too tempting, when Lizzie saw a marvelous gown made of silver and blue drift by, for her not to reach and take it. Helplessly, she snagged the silken garment then whirled around as a flash of silver caught her eye. The wand was right below her and falling fast. To the counterpoint of Diana swearing furiously in her head, Lizzie reached out as far as she could and the tips of her fingers brushed the wand. A second later, the magical stick was in her hands.

'Thank God,' Lizzie breathed clutching it tightly.

"Well done," said Diana sarcastically.

"I got it, didn't I?" Lizzie muttered in reply.

"Yes, well…now, use your magic to leave."

Lizzie was about to ask how, but her new memory filled in the details for her. She murmured the necessary words and, with a whoosh, she resumed falling at a normal speed. It was so shocking, she didn't even scream, just clutched the gown and wand as tightly as she could and, with a spray of soot and ashes, she flew out of the fireplace and right into the middle of the family kitchen where Jacqueline and her fiancé were sharing a comparatively chaste kiss. It was hard to say who was more surprised, Lizzie or Jacqueline.

Jacqueline screamed her sister's name and leapt to her feet. Her fiancé looked just as startled, though he did not squeal.

"Make yourself invisible!" Diana screamed in Lizzie's head. But Lizzie was one step ahead of her and had already disappeared from view. Jacqueline fainted and Lizzie couldn't help but giggle softly, terrible though she felt for her sister. Without even thinking, Lizzie went to see if she was okay, but Diana stopped her, reminding her that she was invisible and no good could come of her being there. Besides, saving Joshua's life was far more important. Lizzie couldn't help herself, however, and waited quietly as the poor boy found smelling salts and waved it under Jacqueline's nose. She sneezed and awoke with a start.

"Are you alright?" he asked tenderly.

"I'm fine," Jacqueline replied in her habitual imperious manner. Satisfied that her sister was alright, Lizzie slipped noiselessly out of the house to the sounds of Jacqueline trying to explain to their father what she had seen.

"Well," Lizzie said once they were airborne again. "That went well."

Diana snorted. "Well? That was practically a disaster."

"Perhaps it would have been easier had you told me what to do beforehand, not after catastrophe had struck."

Diana muttered something under her breath, then continued. "You must do better than that to defeat Andrew though.

"I will do better than that," Lizzie retorted. "But as I was about to ask you before; why is it that only I could hear your voice in the book? You said it was because we both have something in common. What is it?"

Diana looked sadly at her. "It is a bond Andrew created; something that we both have experienced because of him and, because I used the Gilld magic to weave the spell, it is through a Gilld that we are bound. We both have carried or, in your case, are carrying a child of Andrew's."

Lizzie screamed.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – Sometimes I really do think I am evil. Ah, well. I hadn't planned on doing this, but making sure that she was pregnant would be a very Andrew-esque thing to do. Oh, what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to write a book… the original quote sounds better. Anyway, thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers (I am now up to fifty and extremely pleased). Special thanks to Soofija and shortstef, both of whom are incredible people who, despite the fact that I have never met them, I love to bits. See, if you review, you too can be loved to pieces by a complete stranger. Enjoy and hopefully I will manage to draw this to a close soon. There's just so much left to happen though…

Levana (Damian)


	13. Heart's Desire

_**Chapter 13**_

Joshua stood outside an enormous castle, looking up at the shimmering roofs and towering turrets with disdain.

"This is it?" Vincent asked from beside him, gazing at the millions of stones carefully constructed to create this most massive of castles. "It doesn't look _that_ impenetrable."

Joshua chuckled grimly. "Brave words, oh brother of mine."

"Alright," Vincent conceded. "It is rather…huge."

"If I didn't know better," Joshua growled under his breath, "I'd say it was an attempt to compensate for other deficiencies." But such thoughts took Joshua in the last direction he wanted to be going, for they reminded him of Lizzie and what had happened. Vowing for perhaps the tenth time that day to punish Andrew for his deeds, he began to study the defenses and remind himself of the way in least likely to get them both killed.

It had been a long time since he was last here, almost nine years. And yet he knew that some of the protections set up would have to still exist, for his were the only hands that could dismantle them. But to try and nullify them now would be sheer madness; Andrew was undoubtedly expecting something of the sort from them and would be sure to set some sort of alarm in case he tried. So that left sneaking past the traps set by the most powerful wizard in the world. No, Joshua mused, this was not shaping up to be a good day at all.

"Well," Vincent interrupted finally, "How do we get in?"

"I don't know," Joshua answered. "But leave that aside for a few moments. Once we're in there, we're going to have to find your daughter. I sincerely doubt that Andrew has hurt her; she's far too valuable a bargaining chip. So if I had to place bets on where she was, I'd say in some sort of nursery. And unless my lovely father has made any incredible alterations to this castle recently; I have a fair shot of finding it. Once that happens, I'm going to ask you to jump as far as you can out the nearest window." Vincent was so shocked, he couldn't even think of anything to say. Joshua rolled his eyes heavenward. "Look, you idiot, it's magic! You'll be fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Who's the mage here, me or you?"

Vincent sighed, but gave into his dictatorial brother-in-law. "You still haven't answered how to get in. I suppose there's no password on the front door that you're aware of."

"No," Joshua said. Their best chances would be to try and get onto the roof and crawl in. The doors up there were the least heavily guarded since there were so many aerial protection spells. And he knew full well how impressive the hot lead was when anyone tried to scale the walls. He had set it himself, it would be activated the moment a trigger atop the walls was touched by the presence of a grappling hook, any other such aid for climbing or any magical attempts to scale the walls. Realistically, Joshua did know enough to set off the traps, then duck them, but Andrew would definitely know when one was triggered and it would alert him to their presence. Flying was an option for their speedy departure, as Joshua had said before, but not for their arrival.

Joshua groaned softly and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes to try and get rid of the pessimism that pervaded his mood. Vincent laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Joshua, we'll make it alright. I can tell." But Joshua wasn't paying attention to his brother-in-law's words. He was focused on the claw resting every so cautiously on his shoulder with sharp nails that, once they dug into something, would never let go.

"Yes," Joshua murmured, looking up. "I would say that, together, we will make it very well indeed."

And ten minutes later, Joshua had proved his point. The two men were suspended halfway up the castle walls with only Vincent's claws to keep them up there.

"We're going to break every bone in our bodies if we fall," Vincent muttered, carefully ascending slightly higher.

"No," Joshua corrected as he clung to the Beast's back with all the might he had. "We're going to fall into a vat of boiling oil swimming with magical crocodiles that need lunch."

"Wow, Andrew really is a nasty piece of work."

"Actually, that's one of mine. Andrew's tend to favor sharks and hot tar." There was really nothing to reply to that so Vincent focused on not allowing his hands to slip. Another fifteen minutes later, they reached the top. Vincent was about to reach over and pull himself up onto the parapet, but a harsh yell from Joshua made his hand freeze in midair, leaving him precariously balanced before he found his old grip.

"Sweet Jesus, were you trying to kill me?" he yelled.

"No," Joshua answered angrily. "I was trying to save your life. The spells up there are activated as soon as you put any pressure on the inner walls, exactly where a grappling hook would land."

"Well then, what do we do now? Hang here until my arms give out and we both die?"

"No, just stay here a few seconds longer." And with a dexterity that Vincent couldn't help but admire, Joshua clambered nimbly up to the top of the walls, standing as carefully as he could so that he would not touch the edges. He knelt cautiously and instructed Vincent to take his hand. Gingerly, the Beast put one enormous paw in his brother-in-law's grasp and, on the count of three, Joshua pulled on the other man and threw himself as far backwards as he could go. They cleared the trap by a good number of feet, landing on the stone floor of the parapet with a painful sounding crack, the Beast half sprawled atop the younger man.

"Ow," Joshua groaned. "Get off me before I stop breathing." Vincent rolled over and rested his head on one hand, appraising Joshua for any injuries.

"I'm fine," Joshua told him, sitting up and arching his back. "Just a little sore and my head is throbbing." He sat there, rubbing his temples for a few moments. "God, these traps are almost enough to make me wish I still lived here and knew the passwords." He finally rose to his feet. "Let's get this over with."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Don't worry about me," Joshua said with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm too irritating to die."

"For your fiancée's sake, let us hope so."

Joshua whirled on the other man. "Don't even speak about her."

"You can't just forget about her."

"I'm doing what is right, what I have to do. Making me feel guilty about it isn't going to make things any better!"

"I'm just reminding you of what you have to live for."

"Thank you very much," Joshua sneered, "But it's highly unlikely I need reminding."

Vincent let the matter drop and Joshua turned his attentions to the door on the other side of the courtyard. They crossed to it and Joshua carefully laid his hands on the knocker. He shut his eyes and, as swiftly as he dared, rapped out a complicated beat with both the metal knocker and his free hand. The door swung silently open.

"I can't believe you remembered the pass-code after all these years," Vincent murmured in admiration.

"I don't," Joshua replied with a shrug. "This was one of many, each one with a separate meaning. They change depending on what Andrew's mood is. I just had to guess what I thought he was feeling at the time. There are clues to it, like the shape of the doorknocker or the color of its eyes. But if you don't have a good idea of the castle dynamics, you're dead." Vincent's jaw dropped. "Now, aren't you glad you have me along?"

"I'm awed to be in your presence," Vincent replied, not completely sarcastic. "Now where's my daughter?"

"Follow me," Joshua replied, leading him off down the hallway. "The inside of the castle is not particularly well guarded; it would be very irritating to have spells being set off every time some servant slips up and it's extremely difficult to remember where everything is."

"But you managed."

"I was a wizard, I had to." They continued on in silence, the only noise being the soft footfalls of Joshua's boots and the faint clacking as the Beast's toenails, not quite so long and sharp as they had been an hour previous, hit the floor. This went on for a good fifteen minutes until the two adventurers found themselves before an ordinary looking door.

"This is it?" Vincent asked doubtfully.

"If I guessed correctly," Joshua answered. He laid his hands on the door and traced a strange pattern on its unadorned surface.

"I'm not even going to ask," muttered Vincent.

"Good, because I wouldn't answer," was the amused reply.

The door swung open and Joshua walked in proudly as if he were the master of the place. Perhaps he would have been, Vincent mused, had not destiny twisted his life in some strange manner. Perhaps he still would be.

There was a muffled cry from inside, then the sound of someone bursting into tears. Vincent, more than a little worried, peered inside. Joshua was standing in the middle of the room, his face going slightly red as a small, thin woman with iron gray hair who came about halfway up his chest hugged him with all her might. He patted her head awkwardly and Vincent bit back a snicker, earning a reproving glance from Joshua.

"Minerva," he said, carefully disentangling himself from the woman. "May I introduce my brother-in-law, Vincent?" She looked towards Vincent and, to the Beast's surprise, showed absolutely no shock at his form. "Vincent, this is my old nurse, Minerva. She can tell you what a cherub I was when I was younger."

She laughed. "You were the naughtiest child I have ever met," she told him affectionately.

Joshua pretended to look affronted, but Vincent muttered "I can believe that."  
"But why have you returned?" Minerva asked suddenly. "Sure you of all people know how little you are welcome here."

"I know," Joshua answered. "But I have some urgent business here that required my appearance." She looked at him questioningly. "But I'm going to need your help and, for that, I'm going to have to ask you to betray Andrew."

Her eyes went wide. "Joshua," she breathed. "What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing terrible," he answered jauntily. "Nothing involving our old feud. I just need some information on the whereabouts of a young girl called Rose."

The woman smiled. "I should have guessed as much," she said softly. "She's being held in one of the tower rooms."

"Do you know which one?"

"I do, but I don't have the key."

Joshua laughed. "Lack of keys has never bothered me before." Vincent smiled as Joshua followed the old woman into the twisting passages that made up the labyrinth of Andrew's castle.

"Does he do this on purpose?" Vincent muttered in Joshua's ear after they seemed to have made four right turns in a row and yet still found themselves in a totally new room.

"Of course," Joshua replied. "It amuses him; like a huge game of cat and mouse and he's the King of Felines."

"I've been told that I look rather like an overlarge dog," the Beast murmured. "Does that help?"

Joshua laughed. "I think your wife meant that in a more affectionate and less predatory way."

"Shush!" hissed Minerva. "We're drawing close." The two men did as she bade, an atmosphere of worry and fear descending on them immediately.

They halted before a heavy looking wooden door with iron bars. There was an imposing padlock on the door, which only made Joshua smile slightly. Andrew always loved to show off. Admittedly, Joshua did as well, but he would display his magical prowess in different ways. Much kinder ways, for one. Some of which would definitely involve his wife-to-be.

He shook his head as if to clear it. Now was not the time to dream of her; he had to save Rose. Joshua took a deep breath and, ignoring the door completely, fished through the small bag at his side for something. The two with him watched silently, wondering what the young and resourceful wizard was up to now. Said wizard finally found what he was looking for and pulled it out of the sack. It was a small ball, about the size of a fist, made of white, pink and yellow gold swirled together in a pattern that, just as the eye seemed to discern continuity, something strange and new happened in its depths. He threw it up in the air and, as it reached the apex of its flight, it morphed into a wizard's staff made of stained oak and shot through with veins of gold, the ball perched atop. Joshua caught it with a practiced ease, ignoring the surprised gasps from his audience.

"Will that open the door?" Vincent asked.

"No," Joshua replied, "It will circumvent it entirely." And he swung the staff with all his might at the stone wall next to the door. The gold ball collided with a fearsome noise and blew an enormous hole in the wall that would be large enough for even a Beast to enter. There was a strange silence in the hall after that, though Joshua mistrusted the quiet. He didn't doubt that warning alarms had gone off near Andrew and were already alerting him to the presence of his son. "Get in there!" he roared at the Beast, fear for all their lives making him even more tyrannical than usual.

The Beast obeyed, racing through the door before skidding to a halt as he faced his daughter again for the first time in four months. He let out a soft, strangled sob as she screamed and hid her eyes. It was agonizing for him that she should hide her eyes, but it was to be expected. She had never seen this bestial form before; how could she know it was her father? And it broke his heart to see her, though he should have expected this. She was, after all, his daughter. It made perfect sense that the spell would affect her too. Oh, but it was tragic to see the young, playful girl who had looked so much like her mother transformed into a hideous beast.

Vincent knelt down and gently called to his daughter. "Rose," he murmured softly. "Rose, it's me."

She looked up cautiously, brown fur nearly obscuring her dark brown eyes. "Papa?" she whispered, still staring at him

"Yes, little one. Come here." She walked over to him, trusting in his voice and tripping constantly over legs that had never meant to be used upright. She was cautious, but he kept speaking to her, reminding her of their castle at home and her Mama. She followed the sounds until Vincent swept her up into a hug, kissing her nose the way he always did. She lost all her reticence then, flinging her arms around his neck and crying "Papa!" over and over again. He held her tight, thanking both God and his brother-in-law for giving him back this most precious of all gifts.

Joshua stared at them, a tight feeling in his chest. He felt incredibly guilty for he was the reason Rose had suffered this transformation to begin with. She was reunited with her father now and they would soon be out of here. If nothing else happened right, at least his sister's family would escape relatively unscathed. Joshua shut off his mind before it could turn to thoughts of his Lizzie.

"How sentimental," breathed a cold, familiar voice right behind him. Every bone in Joshua's body went rigid. He knew that voice, knew it all too well. It was the sound that haunted his nightmares, that could still cause him to wake up in a cold sweat, bury his face in his pillow and pretend he wasn't crying. Those were the tones that had made him kill countless innocents, that gave him the heartache he suffered even today.

Joshua didn't even turn to face his foe. He dashed forward and screamed for Vincent to jump. Vincent, remembering what he had been told, didn't even hesitate. He wrapped his arms tighter around his daughter and, with one huge stride, he was at the windowsill and, with another, he launched himself through the glass and out towards the gardens below. Joshua swung the staff, an arc of bright light striking them and, instead of falling, they floated speedily away from the castle and out of Andrew's domain, the shimmering spell around them reflecting all the aerial attacks.

As Joshua was casting the spell, he felt a sensation not unlike being stabbed in the back by a three foot long broadsword. He fell to his knees, but refused to lose focus and fought to finish the magic he was in the middle of. He succeeded and, one moment later, let out a shriek of pain that could not be repressed one more second. He groaned, trying not to sob, and got to his feet. Joshua turned around to face his father but, to his shock, saw no one but his old nurse. Refusing to believe that the old woman could turn on him, he clutched the staff anyway and pointed it straight at her. He was about to begin the magic, but before he could, her body was suffused with a fiery glow that grew so bright, Joshua needed to shield his eyes. When it cleared, Joshua found himself looking into the very familiar face of Lord Andrew Gilld.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – Ladies and Gentle… oh, who am I kidding? How many guys could their possibly be who read Beauty and the Beast fanfic? Not to insult any who do, it shows maturity and sensitivity, rather like still sleeping with a teddy bear. I admire a man who can admit to still sleeping with his teddy bear, it makes me feel better about it. That off my chest (Hello, my name is Levana and I am securely attached to an overlarge bear named Shnoo), I would like to thank all my wonderful reviewers who are the real reason this is getting done. Well, that and the fact that I always write faster when I'm at the exciting bit. Yes, poor Joshua is put through a hell of a lot (and shortstef, if Lizzie doesn't want him you can have first dibs AFTER ME). And poor Rose. I had always wondered if curses were genetic, although this might have just been Andrew being seriously evil. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Lizzie or Diana, they'll be here soon and… well, I won't promise a happy ending but you will get an ending.

Now, for the gratuitous mention of Soofija and shortstef since they are so nice to me and have put up with the long, pointless rambling in the authors' notes. You two are both wonderful and I'll send Joshua over with hugs if I can spare him. Same goes to anyone else who reviews the latest chapter (really sorry if you've reviewed other chapters recently, but if you leave me a message, you too can have a gorgeous, albeit imaginary hug)

Whew!

Thanks for reading and this should be ending soon so stay tuned.

Levana (Damian)


	14. Blowing Up Is Hard to Do

_**Chapter 14**_

"Andrew," Joshua said softly, an angry bitterness in his voice that was nowhere near enough to convey his loathing for the man before him.

"Welcome home, my son," Andrew replied, his deep cultured voice striking a chord deep within Joshua that made him want to cringe and somehow erase the voice from his memory.

"Do you receive all your guests this way?" was the reply, for Joshua was determined to match Andrew in both shallow courtesy and thinly veiled insults.

"Most of my guests don't drop through the roof," Andrew answered with a dangerous smile.

"I merely thought you'd like a little variety. If the front door is more convenient; I'll remember to use that if I ever return."

"Not to mention if you ever leave."

"And do you plan to stop me?" Joshua inquired. "I doubt you have the power; you didn't seem all that keen to halt Vincent."

"I had no reason to keep those two monsters here," Andrew answered lazily, keeping his dark, murderous eyes fixed on his son. "They'll be just as dead out there and with far less effort on my part."

"And now I've exerted myself far more than I should have," Joshua continued bitterly, knowing that Andrew would have said it anyway. "Well done, Andrew. You didn't dare attempt to battle me when I'm at full strength, you seem to be scared of that. So you weaken me before your 'grand victory'?"

"In a word, yes. I see no reason to be noble. I want you dead, Joshua, and I am going to see it done."

Joshua shrugged eloquently. "Then let's begin. I tire of your games."

Andrew laughed at him, then slipped a thin golden ring off his finger. He let go of it and it hung in the air for a moment as the staff began to appear, a deep brown wood that seemed almost black in the light of the setting sun. The ring would float around the staff like a halo. Joshua, however, decided to fight as fair as his father would and lunged for the older man before he could retaliate.

"Bad form," Andrew said with a sneer, ducking Joshua with ease. Joshua cried out softly and clutched at his stomach. He had known Andrew would not abide by the rules but he hadn't thought… no one ever broke that rule, no one. It was the only law that, as far as Joshua had known, had never been ignored. And yet Andrew had. The castle suddenly shook, as if being pummeled by a huge fist. Joshua sank to the floor, his hands clenching his side as Andrew just laughed and laughed.

.,\.,\.

"Are we there yet?" Lizzie whined to Diana. Diana growled under her metaphorical breath.

"No, you silly girl, can you see a castle in the distance?"

"What's taking so long?" Lizzie didn't mean to sound like a petulant child, but she simply couldn't help it. She was worried, dreadfully worried, about her fiancé.

"We're flying," Diana answered. "Even though it's much faster than a horse could ever travel, we still have a good two hours before we reach the castle.

"Two hours," Lizzie repeated. How was she ever going to survive two more hours of Diana. There was definitely another reason wizards didn't learn like this ordinarily; having an older mage in one's head is enough to drive a person insane.

They flew on at a remarkably fast rate that Lizzie still felt was far too slow. She wanted to be there now; she feared for Joshua, the man who still hadn't promised to return alive. He'll return alive, she swore. If he dies, it will be over my dead body! Lizzie paused in her internal monologue as the implications of that sunk in. She shivered, not really wanting to contemplate that. Although it would save her the trouble of bearing Andrew a child. She still attempted to deny that Andrew had truly managed to fill her womb, but with magic, it was undoubtedly all too easy to conceive. And if he wanted to hurt her and Joshua even more than he already had, this was the way to do it. And what could she do now? She knew there were spells to kill an infant in the womb, but she could not do it. She had grown up with the knowledge that every life was sacred, even one begun by such an evil man. Joshua was also that man's son and he had become the most wonderful person in the world. But there was so much more than that. What would Joshua say when she told him? Would he hate her? And even if he did not, surely someone would notice that she was pregnant before her marriage. That was not an easy stigma to escape, even if this child were to be born a mage.

She sighed and hid her head in her hands. This was not what she should be worrying about now; she had to save both herself and the love of her life. She drifted off into a daydream, letting her mind wander and relying on Diana to call out when they had drawn near to the castle.

Lizzie's reliance on the mage in her head was not ill founded and, as soon as the battlements of Andrew's home drew into view, an irritated yell reverberated through Lizzie's head, awakening her from the light doze she had been enjoying.

"Get up, you lazy girl!" Diana shouted cheerfully.

"Silence, you old hag," Lizzie growled good naturedly in reply.

"Sharp tongued shrew," Diana retorted happily.

"That would be a good example of the pot calling the kettle black, would it not?" Lizzie grinned, pleased at herself.

"Save your word games for Andrew," Diana replied sharply, irritated at having lost to this chit of a girl. "Now I need you to listen to me. When we reach the castle, you're going to need as much agility and endurance as you have. The air surrounding his fortress is heavily protected with numerous spells, none of which you will survive if they hit you. The spells going off will draw Andrew's attention to you, but since he will undoubtedly be occupied, courtesy of Joshua, he will not come out to deal with us personally and so we should survive the initial trip onto the roof."

"And then what?"

"And then you get yourself killed by Andrew."

"Your faith in me is so reassuring," Lizzie drawled.

Diana seemed to shrug. "I'm merely being practical."

Lizzie rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Don't be." I keep telling myself that I have to fight, she thought to herself. I have to survive until Joshua has kissed me at least one more time. But how likely is that? Diana's right, I don't have a chance. True, I have the knowledge, but I simply don't have the experience that Andrew does.

"Get ready," Diana warned. Lizzie took a deep breath and screamed it all out as an enormous fireball came hurtling towards them at a terrifying speed. She ducked it as best she could and nearly flew head on into another flying inferno, right on the tail of the previous one. What began then was a desperate flight as Lizzie struggled to remain alive. She whirled through the air as swiftly as the magic allowed, performing dangerous feats without even realizing and, finally, when all else failed, ending her magic and dropping a good forty feet before speeding back up and landing in relative safety on the roof of the castle. Two gigantic green balls of lightning that had been following her swooped down, gaining on her with every second. Lizzie sprinted towards the door and used magic to turn it to ashes, not caring that she might as well have sent ahead a calling card for all the stealth she was using. She dashed through the door and down a hallway as the lightning struck the building. It was too big to fit through the door and exploded on impact with the stones, making the entire castle rock as if struck by an earthquake.

"Keep running!" Diana cried to her. Lizzie didn't need to be told twice. She kept going down the hall, the bag on her back bouncing against her body, jolting her painfully, and yet she didn't dare stop and fix it. She had no doubt that Andrew's attacks directed at her were only beginning.

The halls of Gilld Castle were extremely twisted and completely impossible to navigate. Diana vaguely remembered the layout, Lizzie hadn't the faintest idea which way to go. Running purely on fear and anger, she used her magic to blow a hole in the wall that would lead her straight to the room in which she could find both her beloved and the bane of her existence.

"Wait a minute," Diana said. Lizzie ignored her. "I said, wait!" Lizzie slowed down slightly.

"Why in the name of all that is holy would I want to do that?"

"So that you could put on the dress that you've stolen from me and stuffed ever so disrespectfully into your bag."

"I refer you to my previous question."

"Stop running!" Lizzie finally did as directed and, to the sounds of Diana explaining herself, stripped out of her worn, dirty and singed traveling clothes and into the marvelous silver dress.

"So you see," Diana concluded, "It's not exactly good form to battle wearing clothing that can serve as a magical aide, but women never fight fair and I doubt Andrew will." Lizzie used magic to secure the back. "Besides that, this dress has a special significance. The last time I wore it was when I found out I was pregnant with my son, Joshua."

Lizzie swallowed the lump building in her throat and took off at a dead run, refusing to even ponder the possible irony that this dress would witness both her fiancé's creation and destruction. It was far more difficult to run now that she was wearing skirts, but Lizzie trusted Diana when she said that it was to her benefit to be wearing the dress. And it was barely even a minute of delay.

The long, newly created hallway stretched before her, a mass of rubble and broken stone. At the end of it, Lizzie could see at least one figure, if only because he seemed to be dressed in all too distinctive cloth of gold. She knew that was Andrew, her Joshua just wasn't that pretentious. There seemed to be something on the floor in front of him, but Lizzie couldn't tell what.

She drew ever closer, her heart pounding in her breast as she realized that this was it. It was now or never. Lizzie shut her eyes as she prepared, once and for all, to risk her life for the man she loved. After all, he would have done the same for her.

.,\.,\.

Joshua groaned and glared up into his father's face. "You bastard!" he hissed, clenching his jaw and trying to hide the pain shooting through him like lightning.

"You have such a beautiful face," Andrew murmured, his hands resting lightly on the mask. "I don't see why you cover it."

"It's the face of a monster," Joshua replied, his eyes narrowing. Andrew untied the mask and let it fall from his son's face. Joshua lowered his head, letting his long, blond, now unbound hair flow freely to hide his face. Andrew, however, had other plans. He grabbed his son's chin and forced his face up. Wincing in pain, Joshua looked back into his father's eyes.

"You can make me look like you," Joshua growled, trying to free himself from the man's iron grip. "You can't make me you."

"I can leave you dead," Andrew purred.

"You will anyway." The pain in his side was greater now and he was growing dizzy from all the blood he was losing.

Andrew suddenly let his son go, whirling around as he heard something behind them. About ten feet away, and closing fast, was the figure of a young woman. Her hair was blown back by the wind she created and she was dressed in a magnificent dressed that seemed spun of silver. In her hands she held a rowan and silver wand. Andrew stared at her, marveling at how like Diana she was. Proud and fierce with the heart of a warrior. Oh yes, he thought to himself, the boy inside of her will turn out very well indeed. I must be careful not to kill her now.

Joshua, grateful for the respite, ducked his head again. He would be damned if he died now, not even having the decency to kill his father in the process. Andrew was distracted now, he could weave a spell that would kill them both. He didn't care why his father's attention had wandered, he was just grateful it had. And then he heard the voice of the newcomer, the distraction, and found that he cared very much indeed.

"Andrew Gilld," Lizzie hissed, filled with an indescribable rage that came in equal parts from the possessive looks Andrew was giving her and the small pool of blood already developing around her fiancé. It wasn't that difficult to see the knife protruding from his side, though his hands were clutching at it, trying to stop the bleeding. She was overflowing with anger and, at that moment, would have struck him dead with a glance, had looks been able to kill. And then her blood ran cold. For Joshua, compelled by the sound of her voice, looked up into her eyes and she saw him, for the first time, without his mask on. And in that instant of time, she understood why he kept it covered. For his face was that of a horrifying beast, a monster that was even more terrible than what Vincent had been, for this was a monster in human shape. Joshua's face, feature for feature, was exactly identical to that of his father's and it made Lizzie want to die when she realized that every time she would look at her beloved, she would see the face of her mortal enemy.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – There! Happy? I finally told you what was behind the mask. And for those of you who had asked before, the mask covered half of Joshua's face down to the bottom of his nose and most of his cheeks. His mouth, obviously, is visible.

Now, the thank yous. It occurred to me that if I waited longer between updates, I might garnish more reviewers. But that would make me even crueler and eviler (so not a word) than I already am. Being mean to characters is one thing, but being mean to reviewers… some things are beyond the pale. So this chapter is dedicated to Kate, for joining my legions of adoring fans (you can have a legion of four, right?). And I don't know how Joshua will react, but I hope, for Lizzie's sake, he doesn't take it too badly. Now, the minor topic of Joshua's mortality. I'd _like_ him to live, but my characters don't always talk to me before they do things (example – Andrew). So I won't promise he'll live but if I ruin your life, just know that I am heartily sorry about it. Was that reassuring? No?

Oh, and I don't have the faintest idea where my ideas come from. They show up in my head unannounced and demand to be written. Terry Pratchett thinks that little particles of inspiration fly through the air and, if you're lucky (or possibly unlucky), you get hit. I think I may have a magnet for them. And nice though it would be, I can't clone Joshua for you, shortstef. The mages haven't figured out how to do it yet (do you honestly think Andrew would bother with progeny if he could just Xerox himself, so to speak). And I'm glad you like Joshua when he actually bothers thinking. Intelligence can be surprisingly attractive. Damn, I'm falling in love with another fictional character. This has got to stop!

Oh well, thanks for reading and, if all goes well, another update will be here shortly.

Levana (Damian)


	15. Life Goes on Within You and Without You

Lizzie shut her eyes, her stomach lurching as if she stood on a ship's deck during a terrible storm, tossed on troubled waves and thrown off of what had once been such a safe haven. She did not want to see what was before her; her mind rebelled against the conflicting terrors of seeing Joshua or losing him.

"You stupid cow!" Diana howled in her head. "Now's not the time! Kill him!"

Lizzie snapped swiftly out of the tempest in her mind, remembering that her very existence was in danger. She was not a moment too soon. As her eyes snapped open, Andrew flung a deadly sharp knife at her. She dove forward and down. The knife sailed over her head and she crashed into Andrew, knocking them both to the floor.

Lizzie's skin felt as if it was on fire as his hand grabbed hers. The revulsion she experienced at his touch was almost enough to make her lose control and retch. But she didn't dare seem weak now. She fought back, tooth and nail, as Andrew sought to pin her down, no doubt to have his way with her once again.

'Diana!' Lizzie screamed inwardly. 'Diana, help me!' But there was no reply, no sharp retort telling her what she was stupid enough to forget. Lizzie trembled; she was truly on her own now.

Andrew laughed as he finally shoved his knee into her stomach and pinned her to the floor. Lizzie gasped in pain.

"Don't worry," he murmured softly, his mouth far too close to her own. "I made sure not to injure the baby."

"Pity," Lizzie growled back, trying not to allow her entire mind to shut down from fear. She rolled over, ostensibly struggling to escape. Andrew laughed at her attempts and shifted slightly to hold her down better. That one moment of movement was all she needed and, with a speed born of terror, she slammed her fist as hard as she could into his groin.

Andrew let out a shriek, collapsing and clutching his manhood in agony. Lizzie rolled away, quite pleased with herself though she almost wanted to cut off the hand that had been forced into contact with him. She got to her feet and spared a glance for Joshua, who was curled up in the corner, his face hidden by his soft hair. He was beautiful like this and her heart ached to see him in pain. She knew, deep down, that he was bleeding to death from the wound in his side, but she could not stop fighting to help him. If she did that, she would be dead in an instant.

A sudden movement above Joshua's head made her head snap up. Diana's spirit was hovering there, invisible to anyone other than Lizzie.

"Don't worry," she said in strange, wind like tones that neither Joshua nor Andrew seemed to notice, although to be fair, they were both distracted. "I'll take care of him for you."

Lizzie nodded and turned her attention back to Andrew, who was beginning to recover from what no one had ever dared do to him before.

"You little…" he hissed, getting to his knees. "What were you trying to do, castrate me?"

"No," Lizzie answered, surprisingly calm, "But it would have been an added benefit."

They were on even grounds now. Andrew had lost the element of surprise and Lizzie was as ready as she'd ever be to face him. If he used violence now, she would have no compunction turning him into a living bonfire. Neither would he, evidently, as he raised his staff high in the air and focused the full force of his wrath on Lizzie. An incredibly large inferno leapt out of the ends of the golden halo and flew at her like a firebird. Knowing better than to duck, Lizzie raised her own wand and a sphere of cold moonlight shimmered around her, stopping the flames that struck her shield.

Andrew stopped first, halting his attack and moving the staff so that it was pointed at Lizzie. She dropped her shield, not wanting to use up the magic in her blood too soon. She knew that they were far too evenly matching in wizardry for her to take a chance with even the slightest amount of power.

Andrew murmured something to the shining metal and it began to glow. He laughed softly and a strange golden mist began to fill the air. Lizzie, recognizing it immediately from Diana's memories, shut her mouth and nose, refusing to breath in the mist for she did not want to fall asleep for twenty years. She fell to the floor, for the fog would not descend below chest level and carefully aimed a lightning bolt at Andrew.

Unfortunately for her, he caught it using his own magic, but it did serve its purpose; the mist began to dissipate.

"Don't you think that's hitting a little below the belt?" he mocked.

"I wasn't aware you had any scruples about fighting fair," Lizzie answered him. "What you've done to me certainly qualifies as below the belt, don't you think?"

"You're taking this remarkably well."

"Well, it's rather hard to kill someone when one's not in control of oneself. Not that you would know what self control means."

"You know, Elizabeth, I do believe our child is going to turn out magnificently."

"Not unless he can overcome his terrible paternal inheritance like his half brother did."

They were involved in a most intricate dance of words and actions, the biting insults that they traded were merely the icing on the cake as they fought one another with deadly spells. In between the acerbic words were charms to suck all the air from a person's body, spells to bring down the ceiling onto an opponents head, hexes to send one to the farthest desert or the depths of the sea, curses to turn the skin inside out and even enchantments that could turn the other into a most ferocious beast. Lizzie was not pleased when Andrew dodged that particular spell.

"It seems that you hold my son in high regard," Andrew said with a deceptive gentleness.

"I love him," Lizzie answered simply.

"How sentimental. And is that why you came here? To save his life?"

"Partially. Though revenge is quite a motivator as well."

"Is it?" Andrew asked blandly. "I wouldn't know."

Lizzie laughed softly and nearly had her head taken off by an axe that had not been there moments before. Sobering immediately from her very brief fit of hysteria, she answered him. "Don't you? I can think of no other reason for you to try so hard to kill your son then. Had you been afraid of him, you would have moved much faster. But there was no reason for you to attack now, other than that you were jealous that he had done what you could not do."

"What?"

"Make himself liked."

Andrew laughed and it was Lizzie's turn to catch him off guard with a spell. She did better than he had, the edges of the rubble she sent flying at him struck his shoulder and made him wince in pain. "My dear girl, I have no desire to be liked. If I am feared and, more importantly, obeyed, I will consider myself as having done a fine job with my life."

"That's because you are disgusting beast of a human being. I pity the woman who was forced to see you as the fruit of her womb."

"Where did this fire inside you come from, you were such a docile young girl."

"It is only when the metal is placed in the fire that the true refining begins. You may not have meant to separate the silver from the dross in me, but I wouldn't complain about the effects, you are the one who orchestrated them."

"Quoting wizarding maxims at me, are you?"

"Well, they must be useful for something," Lizzie said with a shrug that send a deluge of water over Andrew's latest attempt to incinerate her. The powerful magics flying back and forth were beginning to cool the magic in their blood. Lizzie shivered as the room felt strangely cold. She knew what this meant; it was a sign that she was reaching her limit. Magic was powered by something special in a mage's blood that flowed throughout the body and could perform wonders when released. But it was not unlimited. Each spell took a little more out of the wizard and, if it ran out, they would be left powerless. Lizzie and Andrew were running low on power and it came down to whoever had the most strength at the end.

Lizzie stood her ground under another one of Andrew's brutal assaults. She felt weak and dizzy, as if she was bleeding. She knew she did not have the ability to dodge him anymore and he laughed as her pitiful shield flickered.

"If I laughed manically and declared that you cannot defeat me, would you feel any better?" Andrew mocked.

There was a strange pulsing feeling in Lizzie's body, as if her lower stomach was on fire. She groaned, what could Andrew have possibly done now? But the man in question was quite busy with magic to change her into a swan. Wrong fairy tale, Lizzie thought to herself, resting a hand on the flat stomach that would, in a few months, show signs of the life within. And then she froze. Something she had said just moments before was coming back to her; the idea that the sayings of wizardry were useful in some way. It was true, especially one that Joshua had mentioned…had it only been two weeks? He had reminded Maurice of a saying about midgets standing on the heads of giants. And now, with Diana's knowledge in her head, she knew what that meant. Her lips curved up in a small grin as she blocked the swan curse almost instinctively. A child up against its father had the power to defeat him. For no matter how powerful the parent was, the son or daughter could use the parent's magic for his or herself. It was an old law, one of the strange safeguards that wizardry was born with to prevent its misuse. It was, according to Diana, how Joshua had the power to transpose her into the book. And it was how Lizzie was going to beat Andrew. For the child that had barely begun growing in her womb was the key.

Joshua sat against the wall, keeping his body as immobile as possible. He hadn't the faintest idea why he hadn't died of his wounds yet and he really didn't want to know. Someone or something was helping him and he was desperately grateful for their help, though he did wish that they would move a little faster. He had watched the battle, both of words and of magic, through a curtain of hair so that Lizzie wouldn't be forced to look at his face. She would need his help before the end and perhaps, together, the two of them could defeat Andrew.

Joshua watched as his Lizzie's mouth curled up in triumph. His blood ran cold at the look in her eyes; wild with victory. She seemed to rally the rest of her strength and, as Andrew laughed at what he thought would be a pathetic last attempt, she loosed a maelstrom of pure magic at him. He screamed as it whirled around him, ripping at his flesh to get to the blood beneath. Andrew shrieked over and over again as the magic ravaged his body, abusing him for his own purposes. It was a fitting punishment for a man who had done similar things to so many women. But that was not what Joshua was worried about. He stared unabashedly at Lizzie, her arms held over her head, which was thrown back in triumph. Magic coursed through her, powers that he knew she didn't have and he dared a small spell to try and find their source. It was all too easy to find. Joshua let out a sob as the realization dawned. Andrew had not simply raped her; he had gotten her with child as well. It made him want to rip the bastard to shreds, but his Lizzie was already doing a wonderful job of that. Joshua trembled, wondering what the hell he was going to do with this nasty can of worms he had been presented. Then something happened to take his mind off the future and slam it right back into the present.

Andrew, in the midst of a terrible end, raised his staff one last time and screamed a bloodcurdling scream. Then the bloody fire in those haunting green eyes went dark as he slipped into the arms of death, thrown there by his own angry actions. But his last scream did its work. With the last of the magic in his blood, he directed one last enchantment at his foe. Beneath Lizzie's feet, it opened up a hole in the ground from the floor on which she stood all the way down into the dungeons, some good fifty feet. Lizzie cried out in fear as she felt the wood give way. Her magic was completely spent on killing her mortal enemy; she had none left to save herself. She scrabbled for a hand hold, short fingernails grabbing at wood that was crumbling to dust ere she felt it. Joshua, no longer interested in healing his own body, rose swiftly to his feet and dove at the hole in the floor. His side was bleeding sluggishly, but most of the deep, life threatening wound was gone, albeit he had lost much blood in the process.

"Lizzie!" he screamed in heart wrenching agony as his hands brushed hers for but a second and her beautiful blue eyes met his for what he knew deep in his heart had to be the last time. He watched her fall, reaching out with all the magic left in his blood. But it was not enough; he had spilled too much of his own blood and had used too much of his power to have any left to save her. So he could just stare, tears sliding down his cheeks, as she fell. And then he flung his head back and roared in pain.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – Well, I didn't kill Joshua. Alright, alright, I'm fully aware that I am setting myself up for hate messages here (and some of you have been so good to me), but this story isn't over yet. Don't worry, I do believe in resolving things before tying up a tale and I suppose I've been a little cruel here. That said, you had better hope I take pity on Joshua before the next chapter and, if nothing else, ship him off to a certain reviewer to make him feel better (shortstef, are you up for it?). Please don't shoot me yet, I still have a few tricks up my sleeves.

Ah well. Anyway, it's time for the praise of the wonderful reviewers (see what happens. Instead of updating every two years, I get around to updating every two days). Kate, I'm glad you like having chapters dedicated to you. And I'm especially happy when people like the way my characters behave. I'll pass the thanks on. She's another one with a mind all of her own, never bothers to inform the author what her plans are. And if the pesky characters wander off on you…actually I don't have any idea how to get them back, they do that to me too.

Soofija my dear, you are perfectly correct. This can go nowhere but wrong. Though you've undoubtedly figured that out by now. And I did kill Andrew for you. That's got to count for something, right? I too like the quick updates; I'm rather anxious to find out what happens at the end myself- please don't yell at me for not knowing. I try my hardest, but…

And, shortstef, I'm glad you're so anxious about them. I liked the mask revelation too. After all, if I was going to make this BatB fanfic, there had to be a few little parallels.

On with the show and I'll try not to leave you suffering too long between updates, k? (Or I could go on a six month trip to a tropical island with no computers…)

Levana (Damian)


	16. It Takes a Leap of Faith

**_Chapter 16_**

Joshua stared down at the goblet he held, filled with deep red wine that rippled like the wind over the sea. He set it down as carefully as he could, his hands trembling violently. He didn't drink of it for the wine held no appeal for him.

"How did I come to this?" he asked himself softly, leaning back against the wall and drawing the velvet drapes around him. He was sitting on the window seat of his father's work room… his work room now. There was so much that had to be done, none the least of which was reversing, one by one, all the evils that Andrew had ever perpetrated. He was, after all, a lord and had quite a bit of power. His holdings were not as paltry as Joshua had liked to believe; the king knew when it was a bad idea to insult the mages, especially one such as Andrew. And Andrew hadn't cared very much for those under his care, he never had.

Joshua sighed and rubbed him temples wearily. That was just one more thing to add to his ever growing list. Right now, he should be meeting or reacquainting himself with the inhabitants of his castle before preparing for a progress through his lands. But he couldn't. He just didn't have the strength to do it.

After Andrew had been slaughtered and Lizzie had fallen, for Joshua refused to say the word "dead"; preferring to remain in denial though he knew the truth in his heart, it had occurred to Joshua that he would have to face the other denizens of the castle. He opened the door and found at least half the staff standing there, trembling in fear that they would all be destroyed. At the very front were the five men who Andrew had worked most closely with, vassals and allies who were some of the very few granted access to his home. Joshua remembered them well; they were an avaricious, backbiting, jealous group with no care but for their own advancement, which made them of extreme use to Andrew and utterly worthless to Joshua.

"Lord Andrew," said the man in front. Joshua shivered in revulsion as he remembered that he still bore the face of the tyrant. He shut his eyes and turned away from them, performing the magic he had longed to do ever since he was seventeen. Now that Andrew was dead, there was no longer any force to hold the spell intact if one wanted to break it. So Joshua simply exerted the proper amount of magical pressure in the right place and hoped his face would return to normal. But he didn't feel that telltale tingle that meant his magic had worked. That was the weak point in the spell; he knew that was it. He had spent hours resisting the temptation to try and break it before Andrew was gone. So there had to be another catch…but what was it? Joshua swore violently under his breath. He didn't have the time for this now. Hell, he didn't even have time to grieve for his fiancée. What was most important, however, was to deal with these men. They were dangerous and would kill him if he showed a moment's weakness, so he had to watch his step. What frightened him was that the prospect of death no longer seemed quite so unwelcome. Joshua retied the mask around his face with a sigh, aware that everyone present would recognize him.

"What did you just call me?" Joshua said, turning back around with a menace that was not wholly feigned.

The five men just stared. Joshua smiled grimly. They undoubtedly remembered him as a thin, gawky sixteen-year-old boy with wild hair and frightened eyes. He was taller now and his body had grown into itself. His hair was tied neatly back, or had been, and the fear in his eyes had been replaced by something fierce. He twisted the signet ring that had appeared on his finger after the soul had departed his father's body for endless tortures in hell. "Lord Gilld," one of them murmured, his voice trembling slightly and they all bowed to the exact degree necessary and no further. The servants, however, remembered Joshua well and showed their devotion to their new master with a far greater amount of exuberance. Joshua's smile grew; he recognized many of those faces.

"Rise," he said softly in a tone that stated quite clearly he would brook no opposition to anything he would say. "Welcome to my home, Lords Trevor, Barton, Cherdell, Deptford and Massiline." It was extremely rude to group them all together like that, but Joshua didn't care; he never had much respect for them anyway. Their eyes widened, evidently they had not expected him to know or remember their names. They should have known better; he was a greater wizard than any of them and a wizard never forgot any useful information he was told. "I trust your stay up until now has been pleasant?"

"Very much so, my lord," answered Deptford, swallowing nervously.

"Good," answered Joshua. "I hope the remainder of it will be just as agreeable to you. Which brings me to my next point. By the time I awaken tomorrow morning, I expect all five of you to be out of this house and as far away from me as you can get. I suggest you think carefully about your actions over the past seven years for I will too. Remember, you either live in my lands or benefit from them, it is not wise for you to antagonize me further."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, your late father was-"

"My father, as you have already noted, is dead and, unless he has been crossing boundaries that no man can cross, will not be returning anytime soon. I, however, am very much alive and not in the mood to suffer insubordination. Have I made myself clear?"

"But-"

"Or do I need to remind you of what else I have inherited from my father?" The threat was not subtle and the men got the picture.

"Very well, Your Grace," said Massiline. "Thank you for hosting us in your castle." They strode away with their heads held high in disdain.

As soon as they were out of sight, Joshua sank to the floor and ripped off the mask, burying his face in his hands. He had shoved all the emotions behind a brick wall to deal with those imbeciles and now he had to face it. "Lizzie," he hissed, clenching his fists so hard he was leaving small, crescent shaped marks on his forehead. "Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!" It was all too much for him now. He had thought to prepare himself for every eventuality, but never, not even in his worst nightmares, had it occurred to him that she would lay down her life for his. "This isn't how it's supposed to happen," he cried, tears flowing down his face, gathering on his chin before dripping off and landing in small, dark spots on the carpet beneath him.

A warm, caring pair of arms surrounded him. Joshua hiccupped and turned away, shouldering the person aside. He knew who it was and remembered how kind she had been to him. Allisande had been his first lover; the woman who introduced him to the "adult" world when he was fifteen and insatiably curious. She had been three years older than him, which made her twenty eight now and was now undoubtedly a matron with children of her own. "Joshua, relax," she said soothingly, stroking his hair. He wrenched his body away.

"Don't touch me," he groaned, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"It's alright," Allisande continued tenderly, rubbing his back and completely ignoring his protests, which were dying down fairly swiftly. "It'll be alright now. Hush, Joshua, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"No it won't," Joshua answered through the tears that he could not stop. But he allowed Allisande to embrace him and hold him as the tear continued to fall. "She's dead." And he let go entirely, clutching her tightly as his heart completely shattered.

And it had only gone downhill from there. Joshua locked himself in Andrew's study, refusing to come out, either to eat or sleep. Allisande had managed to gain entry once, her lustrous red hair now streaked with grey as she eyed him with a maternal worry. He sat much where he did now, perched on the window seat with one leg dangling and the other bent at the knee. She had forced him to accept the food, but he left it on the desk, refusing to eat. She had left, muttering something about how he had always been stubborn. It had been the only thing so far that had made him laugh. The day had not been all bad, however. The five under-lords had decided that cowardice in the face of the Gilld blood was simply the better part of valor and had left as he had commanded. The rest of the household was beginning to put itself back together, though Joshua knew his magic would be required to deal with the fifty foot hole in the floor and the long tunnel that burst through half the guest rooms. But to do that would be to face Lizzie's body and he could not do that. Not yet, at any rate. Although he would have to ask soon.

"Christ," he growled, leaning his head back against the stone, "Why are you doing this to me!"

* * *

Diana sat crosslegged in midair, gazing down at the form below her. This was not going according to plan, not at all. She glared down at Lizz'es body. True, she was not in perfect shape and would undoubtedly limp for the rest of her life, but that was a small price to pay for survival. If she had survived and that remained to be seen. Diana had been there when she fell; using all the power her incorporeal body had left after healing Joshua, which wasn't much. She had kept Lizzie from dying on impact, which had not been easy. But the fall had not been kind and Diana had been working as hard as she could to knit bone, muscle and sinews back together. She didn't have the magic to make the extremities perfect, but she had the power to do the hardest part. She had protected both her skull and heart from too much damage and the rest had been complex but manageable. Now all she needed to do convince Lizzie that her body had not actually died.

"Wake up, you stupid girl!" Diana growled, glaring down. "I did not go through all this just to have you abandon my son now. He needs you!" There was no response. Diana rolled her eyes; of all the women in the world, Joshua _would_ pick the one who could be stubborn even in her sleep.

There must be some way to bring the girl back to life, Diana mused. Perhaps if I went in there to find her… Diana pushed a strand of transparent hair out of her eyes. That might work. Of course, it would take an enormous amount of magic…but maybe not. Diana had no body to worry about leaving behind and most of that enchantment dealt with the problems of flesh. Diana shut her eyes and, with a surprising ease, began the search for the conscious self that was Lizzie. It would be just like being back in her head. They would be able to commune with one another using thoughts, but she would have to get the young woman to reach out for her…somehow. She found Lizzie's soul, the essence of who she was, her consciousness, hidden deep behind the walls of shock, terror and pain caused by Andrew, plus the mistaken knowledge that there was no body for her to survive in. Diana glared at the mental walls; they were far too real for her in this state. But it was another voice that distracted her, a voice where there shouldn't have been one. It was not so much words as raw emotion, a desire to be noticed and cared for. Diana nearly ended the spell from shock.

'You survived!' Diana nearly shouted at the tiny developing being inside Lizzie. 'How did you manage that?' The strange emotions shifted, sounding like a cry for love and a plea to be wanted all at once. Diana tried to soothe the frightened thing, for it was not its fault that it was conceived in such ignominy. It seemed to tremble, not understanding her words, but fully comprehending the tender tone. The fears inside the tiny child slowly began to dissipate and Diana sighed a sigh of relief, then wondered why she felt so bad for this thing. For all she knew, this could be the instrument of ruination for both Lizzie and Joshua. She remembered what Joshua's birth had done to her marriage. But there was another side to consider. Perhaps her efforts on its behalf was due to the potential it carried. This child could grow up to be like its older brother. If Lizzie and Joshua cared for it, that was. And if Lizzie woke up.

Diana was suddenly struck by a brilliant idea. No one had ever touched the unconscious needs of a fetus before. And yet this one was responding to her. What if she could use the child to breach the mother's defenses? Diana winced at what she would have to do for success, but she was determined to save her son and so, with a deep sense of regret, she began.

There was nothing more painful she could have done to that young child than reject it. But she did and the pitiful wails that emanated from its very soul made Diana's heart wrench inside her, so to speak. It was a poignant, emotional scream from a child that should not have been able to think such agony. Only Andrew, Diana thought bitterly, could sire a child with such pain inside.

Diana waited and waited as the soundless cries of the young soul within Lizzie grew more and more desperate. She hated to torture it like this, but she had to. Even for its sake, since no child could thrive in the womb of a dead woman.

The anguish coming from the barely formed mind could not get any worse and Diana shut her ears though not even that could shut out the pain. But something else could.

A new thought was heard, one that Diana recognized well. The child stopped its cries as its mother slowly soothed it, telling it that it was loved and cared for and would never be hurt again. Diana smiled broadly, proud of her grandchild that it could do what a full grown mage could not. The anguished soul slowly subsided back into the contented state in which nearly every child existed. Diana felt quite pleased as it dawned on her why people had never been able to commune with a child in the womb before. They remained in a shell of love and protection and had no need to reach out to find anyone else. But this child had. And thank God almighty for that, otherwise Lizzie would have been lost forever.

A pair of light blue eyes opened slowly and blinked. "Hello, Diana," said Lizzie with a small smile. Diana could have leapt for joy, she was so happy.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – There, I didn't kill her. Are you happy now? Of course, I did torture my Joshua for a bit, but he'll get over it. And I'm sorry, I know no one likes the baby. I just couldn't find a way for Diana to protect all of Lizzie's vital organs but leave her womb unprotected. Plus that would probably leave her barren and I would really like to see what the kids are like. Anyway, just to clear up a few things. Names, first of all. Andrew Gilld was born French, but he Anglicized his name when he was accepted at the court of the English king. Hence the two brothers having different last names and why Joshua's name is not particularly French. That said, Andrew's Duchy was granted by the English king, which means that it is (duh!) in England and his vassals may have English sounding names. Yes, the Beast's castle is in France; it's not that far away when one is magically flying. Second of all – babies' brains don't develop until at least the third month of gestation or so. Right now, the child is a little cluster of cells attached to the walls of the womb and small enough that I doubt anyone would know it was there nowadays. However, for the purposes of this story, personality, soul, consciousness, call it what you will, appears upon conception so, technically, the baby can reach out even though it only has the most primitive of emotions. Please don't extrapolate from this my opinions on certain touchy political-medical issues (not that any of you would, I'm just trying to cover my behind here), it just worked nicely for the purposes of the story that the baby be the one to save her. And I will get the mask off of Joshua for good, eventually. But this is Beauty and the Beast, spells end in a very specific way!

Now, for my conversation with the reviewers. I must say, it's all your fault that things turned out this way. Lizzie was never going to die, I can't ruin a good romance, it's inimical to my nature. Should I have told you that earlier? The baby, however, I was all set to kill off when it got all this hate mail. I felt bad for the poor little thing, it hadn't done anything wrong. But, you were the inspiration for the lack-of-love thing, so I guess I should thank you for bringing Lizzie back to life. So shortstef be careful what you tell me to do, occasionally reverse psychology works. And I'm so glad you were on the edge of your seat. And you really shrieked when Lizzie fell! Ahhh, it feels so nice when you like me.

No, Soofija, I won't go off to a desert island without a computer. I'm already having issues with my flight home in two months (grr, I hate airplane beaurocracies. Makes me wish I could fly!). Never fear, this story should be done this week. Or so I hope. But no promises.

Anyway, farewell until next time when, if I'm feeling nice, you may get a mushy reunion scene.

Levana (Damian)


	17. Killing Me Softly

**_Chapter 17_**

Lizzie tried to sit up, her head feeling as if it had been pounded to pieces by wild horses and every bone in her body was protesting for one reason or another.

"Don't even think about it," Diana said gently, laughing delightedly to see that her soon-to-be daughter-in-law was alive and… perhaps not well, but conscious. "You're far too weak to move."

"I am not," Lizzie protested weakly, smiling slightly as she managed to prop herself up on her elbow. Diana sighed and rolled her eyes.

"You were always too stubborn for your own good."

"Always," Lizzie agreed tiredly.

"You should go back to sleep," Diana prompted.

"Nah," Lizzie answered, stifling a yawn with a sheepish grin. "There's too much to stay awake for." She paused. "Diana, before I was properly awake…I…I remember something. It might have been a dream, but it felt as if the baby was calling to me. Is that possible?"

"I hadn't known it was," Diana answered truthfully. "But I heard it as well, so it must have been. You owe that child your life."

"I know," Lizzie answered, moving one hand carefully to lay it on her abdomen. She winced as a particularly nasty bruise on her arm was pressed against her side.

"Be careful!" Diana chided. "I worked hard on that body of yours to heal it."

"And you did a wonderful job," Lizzie drawled, making a note of every single ache, bruise and cut on her body, for each one burned with its own unique pain.

"You are in a fine mood, aren't you?"

"Narrow escape from death surely counts as a mitigating factor," Lizzie muttered, rolling over onto her stomach and sighing as she rested her head on her crossed arms.

"It seems to have done wonders for your wit," Diana observed dryly.

"You know me," Lizzie answered as she checked her blood and was pleased to see that the heat of magic had begun returning and she was about halfway to full strength. "My brilliance shines no matter what the occasion."

"Shall we go and confront Joshua now to prove that?"

Lizzie's eyes shone brightly as she raised her head just a little bit. "Is he alright?" she breathed softly. "Did he survive?"

"Oh, he survived alright," Diana said grimly. "But I have heard that he is in a terrible state, refusing both food and rest as he mourns for a certain young woman."

"How long have I been down here?" Lizzie asked; her voice harsh. She refused to take Diana's bait and ask about Joshua only to hear more romantic drivel. There was only one person who could speak such nonsense to her and get away with it and he needed her help at the moment.

"Only two days."

"Only," Lizzie snorted. She realized that there was no way her body could support her weight and so, with a sigh, she raised herself into the air using the magic she had so recently regained.

"Don't overdue yourself," Diana cautioned,

"I won't," Lizzie replied automatically, completely ignoring Diana's warnings. She floated about six inches off the ground and stared down at the once magnificent dress she had been wearing; now much maligned by the spells and fall it had faced. "Although I may need to do something about this dress."

"I knew I should not have allowed you to take it," Diana muttered. "I made it, allow me to fix it." With an agonizing slowness that only betrayed how much power Diana had lost, she began to put the gown back together.

"You don't have the power to do this," Lizzie hissed at the older woman, glaring down at her as she floated.

"Not in the conventional manner, no," Diana answered. It took Lizzie a moment before she fully comprehended what the woman was saying.

"Diana, don't you dare!" she shouted, her voice slightly raspy from two days without drink.

Diana laughed, her translucent form beginning to fade. "Silly girl, I'm already dead, remember?"

"But…but…you'll be gone for good now," Lizzie said, surprised at the ache in her chest. She had known Josh's mother for barely two days and had already become friends with the woman. "I don't want to say goodbye."

"Daughter," Diana said tenderly, using the term for the first and last time. "That isn't your choice to make. I only stayed around to bring Andrew to his final demise. This world is for the living and, I must confess, I tire of it."

"You're only saying that to make me feel better," Lizzie accused, trembling in a way that made a few bones that were still healing ache.

"Of course I am," Diana answered. "And, it's true; I would like to see my son married and perhaps even the birth of a real grandchild. But if I look at it that way, I'll be around forever; a forgotten ghost. Remember, only you can see me. I've done all I can and it's time to leave the world to the living."

"I don't want you to go," Lizzie whispered.

Diana smiled at her. "There. Your dress is fixed again. And, not to sound cliché or anything, but remember me when you wear it. And tell your daughters to remember me too."

"What if I only have sons?" Lizzie found herself asking, wondering how such inanities could ever pass her lips.

"Then you had better tell your husband to change his tactics," Diana answered gaily, barely more than a shimmering presence in the air. "He would enjoy having a little girl to spoil." Lizzie smiled, though her eyes brimmed with tears.

"That he would," she agreed. "Do you have to go?"

"No," Diana conceded. "But I want to. "Goodbye, dear heart." And the last vestige of her was gone from the air. A soft brush of wind that felt almost like a kiss brushed Lizzie's cheek and then the room was silent. Diana was gone.

"Stupid woman!" Lizzie hissed, swiping at the tears that threatened to trickle down her face and burn the cuts there. "You weren't supposed to die, I was!" But that was an idiotic thought and Lizzie knew it. She had a purpose now, Diana had made it very clear that Joshua needed her, perhaps as much as she needed him. It would be wonderful to have that strong shoulder to cry on right now. She could wait and temper her grief with the joy of Joshua's presence. Lizzie rolled her eyes, thinking it was pitiful what a dose of romance could do to even the most level headed woman.

She began to rise up through the hole in the ceiling, feeling a little guilty for what had been done to the marvelous castle. It was strange to find that magic was such second nature to her, but she reveled in the knowledge that she wouldn't feel pain every time she moved. Unless Joshua was feeling particularly magnanimous, she doubted they would get better any time soon. Realistically, it wasn't so much Joshua's kindness but his strength. Either way, she was worried that her left leg would never recover; it felt oddly stiff and useless. Lizzie sighed; if an ungainly limp was all she had to show for this, she was very fortunate indeed.

She reached the second floor from the top and, presuming that it would be far easier to exit these rooms from down there, she allowed herself to drift towards the door. It was a strange feeling and, for a moment, Lizzie felt as if she was the family ghost of Gilld Castle. No, she said sadly to herself. That was Diana…or had been.

Lizzie pushed open the doors carefully, hoping that nothing completely untoward would attack her. She wandered aimlessly through the halls, trying vaguely to find Joshua but more enjoying the feelings that magic gave her. It was an easy wall to hide behind.

Lizzie was ascending a staircase when she nearly crashed into a maid carrying a tray laden with food. The woman's eyes widened as she took in the rather extraordinary sight of a lady hovering six inches off the ground, dressed in a luxuriously wonderful dressed and covered in more scrapes than a six year old after a tussle. Lizzie smiled kindly at her, realizing how very frightening she must look.

"Please don't be afraid," Lizzie said gently. "I mean you no harm."

"My lady," the woman stammered, curtseying deeply. "Forgive me, I hadn't known any ghosts haunted this stair. If I had, I would-"

Lizzie couldn't help herself and burst out laughing. "Do not fear," she said, eyes filled with mirth. "I am no specter, merely a rather poor sorceress who was in, as they say, the wrong place at the wrong time." She held out her hand. "See, I am as real as you." The woman touched her fearfully.

"Why are you here?" she asked softly, staring at the sorceress with thinly disguised disdain and wariness.

"I must see Lord Joshua Gilld," Lizzie answered.

"His Grace is occupied," she answered stiffly.

"A duke?" Lizzie murmured to herself. "Joshua, darling, you left that little fact out of your tale to me."

"What did you say?" asked the woman.

"He will see me," Lizzie affirmed. "Would you kindly take me to him…" she trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in her name.

"Allisande," she said finally. "I am taking his Grace dinner. If you will follow me, I will announce you, but I do not guarantee that he will see you."

"Thank you, Aliisande," Lizzie replied. "You have done me a great service, even in this." The woman did not seem all that reassured by her words, but she did not try to shake Lizzie off or mislead her. They slipped silently through the halls, all the more so because one of them was distinctly lacking in footsteps.

"We're arrived." Allisande said finally as they drew to a halt in front of a perfectly ordinary looking door. Lizzie peered at it suspiciously, but refrained from asking whether or not the woman was sure.

Allisande balanced the laden tray on one hand and went to knock on the door. Lizzie grinned and took the tray. "Not to be rude," she said quickly at the woman's outraged look. "I'm fully aware you can balance it much better than I ever could. But why should you have to if you need not?" Lizzie smiled winningly and the woman relented, her eyes betraying a gentle warmth that made Lizzie feel quite pleased with herself. Proper behavior be damned, niceness was so much more rewarding.

"Joshua," Allisande called out, rapping on the door. Her voice was motherly and tender and Lizzie wondered what relationship her fiancé had with this woman that she would use his first name. She was too young to have been his nursemaid and definitely not a younger sister. Perhaps some childhood playmate? Or a playmate of an altogether different sort, suggested a nasty voice that Lizzie was determined to ignore.

"Go away," he shouted through the door. Lizzie snickered.

"Idiot," she muttered to herself as Allisande shook her head and said something very similar before whirling around to face her,

"What did you just call him?" she demanded.

"He's acting like a petulant child," Lizzie said, not responding to the question asked. "Let me try." Allisande shrugged, but took the tray back.

"Joshua," she called, "Open the door."

"Go away."

"I would, but you don't seem to like it when your shrew of a fiancée disappears," she replied, remembering the words she had traded with Diana about her pithy remarks for every situation. She just hoped she gauged her fiancé's reaction correctly.

She had. It took all of thirty seconds before the door was flung open to reveal none other than Joshua. His hair was a mess, his clothes were utterly disheveled and he had the look of a madman in his eyes.

"You look terrible," Lizzie observed, completely unable to help herself. Joshua stared, openmouthed, at her for a good twenty seconds before regaining a modicum of his composure.

"Compared to you," he retorted with a grin, "I have no doubt that I look like an angel." Lizzie shook her head, trying to stifle her giggles. "Mademoiselle Leroux, are you laughing at me?" he enquired, unable to suppress the smile that threatened to split his face in two.

"Of course I am," she answered, before reaching out to him. He pulled her into his arms with such force, she actually feared her bones might break again. "Careful!" she nearly yelped. "I'm still fragile!"

His tight embrace loosened somewhat as her words registered. "I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in her hair as he cradled her as close as he dared. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'd rather the pain of your embrace to any of the pleasures in the world," she answered, perfectly serious for once.

"Stop it," he chided. "If you keep that up, I will fall to pieces and say something incredibly imbecilic about how I love you more than heaven or earth or even life itself." He tilted her chin up and caught her eyes, his own twinkling merrily. "See what I mean?"

"Rather," she replied wryly, nuzzling his neck and simply feeling the warmth of his presence. He stroked her back gently as she let go of the spell and allowed herself to be supported by just his arms. "But sometimes I wonder what you would be like if you said such things."

"Different," he answered. "And you know you would hate me for it."

"Hate is a strong word," Lizzie answered, stroking his lower cheek before running her finger along the edges of the mask. 'But perhaps I wouldn't love you quite so well as I do now."

"And do you love me?" Joshua asked, the eyes behind the mask surprisingly devoid of humor. Lizzie didn't even think about joking.

"With all my heart," she said quietly, raising her head and reaching behind his head to untie the mask. She smiled as he tried to prevent her from doing so without actually letting go of his death grip on her body. Lizzie gently pressed on the back of his head and he let her draw him into a kiss, one that they had been desperate to share for at least a week. Joshua didn't even notice as she pulled the mask off his face and kissed him deeper. He was head over heels in love with this woman and he didn't care if every member of his staff was here to see it.

Lizzie's hands stroked his cheek even as they kissed. The change in the bone structure was subtle, she wouldn't have recognized it had she not been looking for it. But there was a reason Lizzie had not allowed herself to shut her eyes and fall into the kiss. She watched delightedly as her fiancé's physiognomy changed from the face of a murderer to one that was both inordinately similar and yet so different in so many ways. Lizzie shut her eyes then, pleased to know that their declaration of love had broken the kiss, for that was the rule, and gave herself completely over to the rapture of being in his arms.

Joshua opened his eyes as the kiss ended, feeling deliriously happy and wondering whether he would explode from it. Lizzie was looking quite pleased with herself, which only made him wonder.

"And what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Joshua teased.

"I was admiring your beauty," she answered, brushing a finger along his cheekbones. Joshua froze as her words registered. He would have chided her for teasing him like that, but she seemed to be in earnest. Yet she could not possibly think him beautiful, not when he still wore the tyrant's face.

Lizzie laughed at his semi-stricken expression. "You truly are dense, aren't you?" she taunted affectionately. Seeing that she received no response, she sighed and decided to spell it out for him. "My love, the spell is broken. You can give up the mask whenever you choose; the only face behind it is your own."

Joshua stared at her as the words slowly made their way into his brain. "I'm free of him?" he asked, laying his hand atop her own.

"Yes," Lizzie answered, before adding "mostly" under her breath. Joshua flung his head back and shouted for joy, whirling her around over and over again. She clung to him, her eyes shut tight as they spun around. Joshua finally set her down before kissing her fiercely. She tried not to smile, for such motions were not at all conducive to kissing. But she was far too happy. All earlier sadness had disappeared under the onslaught of sheer joy at being back where she belonged.

Joshua broke the kiss and rested his chin atop her head, folding his arms around her. He knew he wasn't usually this affectionate with his love interests, but Lizzie was different and she deserved it. Besides, as soon as they had sufficiently recovered from the past two weeks, he doubted he would get such a chance again, so he was going to milk this for all it was worth.

Lizzie sighed and snuggled against his chest. This one moment made it all worth it.

"Lizzie," Joshua said gently.

"Hmm?"

"What did you mean when you said that I was mostly free of Andrew?"

The first thought that passed through Lizzie's head was definitely not a word any young woman of breeding should have known. The second one was that there was no way Joshua was going to accept this. She was right on both counts. "Umm, Joshua…I have a confession to make." He raised one eyebrow and gazed at her with dispassionate curiosity that Lizzie knew was simply a different type of mask. "I'm with child."

Joshua wished he could have been flabbergasted, but deep in his mind, he had been expecting this. The word that Lizzie had only thought of passed his lips as he clenched his fists and resisted slamming them into the nearest wall. She winced; his anger no easier to bear for all that it was anticipated.

"I'll kill him," Joshua hissed.

"I did that already," Lizzie sighed, pulling out of his embrace and making a face as her aching left leg was forced to support her own weight once again. Joshua sank to the floor and leaned back against the doorposts. The two of them had acquired quite an audience by now. Lizzie stared down at him, resting against the other side of the door and trying to find a position where her leg would merely throb and not set itself on fire with agony.

"Well then, what do you expect me to do?" Joshua said finally.

"I don't know," Lizzie answered, feeling nastier than she had in two days. The grief for Diana and her compassion was beginning to spill back into Lizzie's consciousness and it wasn't helping matters.

"Then why did you tell me?"

"Don't be an ass; would you have preferred not to know?"

"If it's all the same to you, I would have preferred that this not have happened!"

Lizzie's eyes narrowed. "Strangely enough, Your Grace, so would I! But I wasn't given a choice!" She fought the hot tears at the corners of her eyes.

Joshua flinched as her words struck home. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye, his arms wrapped tightly around her so that she could bury her face in his chest. He felt her tremble as she cried and Joshua murmured gentle words to her, knowing that he had been extremely insensitive and trying to ameliorate things by cradling her. As far as Lizzie was concerned, it was working wonderfully.

She smiled against his chest and let him soothe her, hoping this would solve all their problems. A sudden, terrible pain in her stomach put an end to that hope. She screamed and flung herself away from Joshua, not even noticing how much it hurt them both. It took less than half an instant for her to figure out what was going on. Joshua knew that the only way to rid their lives of Andrew once and for all would be to kill the baby. But Lizzie couldn't let him do that. She loved him terribly, but this was her child, it had saved her life. She wasn't going to let him take it away. Lizzie blocked it angrily, but she didn't have the power he had, though she matched him for determination. The soft keening from her womb resumed, a primal fear filling her brain along with the desperate plea just to be wanted. She knew Joshua was only doing what he thought was best, but he was wrong and she was going to teach him that in a lesson he would never forget.

Lizzie lowered the block just enough and made the mental connection from her soul to his, forcing Joshua to hear the primitive voice of the child that would, if it survived, become his younger sibling.

_**T.B.C.**_

A/N – Erm, another mean ending for all those of you who love them so. I'm not pleased at Joshua's reaction, but I can't really blame the man. He's hurt, he's in love and he's being faced with something completely out of his frame of reference. My poor Joshie. Anyway, I might have lied about finishing this week. This little altercation wasn't exactly supposed to happen and it might lengthen things a bit. And life has conspired to steal away my weekend. Oh well.

Anyway, thank yous this round belongs to Soofija, because she actually reviewed (cheers!) and, of course, asked me to kill the baby. Joshua agrees with you and took your advice and now look what you've done. Poor brat – two weeks old and already loathed. On the bright side, the curse is gone. And I am updating soon. Two out of three ain't bad.

Love you all, would love you even more if you left me a review…

Levana (Damian)


	18. Marriage Bells

_**Chapter 18**_

Lizzie sat on the huge desk in the middle of the room, staring pointedly at the wall and ignoring everything else. Joshua stood behind her, his hands on his hips and his green eyes dark with rage. The last noise to be heard in the room was that of an unborn child screaming for someone to care for it. Ever since then, the two erstwhile lovers had been silent, waiting for something other than themselves to shatter the dangerous calm. Joshua, always impatient, finally took matters into his own hands.

"Will you please turn around?" he growled, trying to hide his worries behind his anger.

"No," Lizzie answered, tucking her knees up beneath her and wrapping her arms around them. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"If you'd turn around," Joshua said through gritted teeth, "You would find out."

"If it's that important," Lizzie replied, "You can say it to my back. If it's not, you can leave me alone."

Joshua narrowed his eyes at her. "This is my room, you know."

"Would you like to try and make me leave?" Joshua didn't even bother responding; he turned on his heels and stormed out, swearing under his breath.

Lizzie laid her hand on her stomach. "You had better be worth all this," she told the child within her. She laughed bitterly, before burying her head in her arms and sobbing. "It's not fair!" she cried, clutching her skirts in clenched fists. "I didn't want this to happen!" Lizzie bit her lip as her mind slowly an efficiently went through all the horrors she had experienced. She had been forced to kill a man, she had nearly fallen to her death, she had lost one of the few good friends she had left and she had pushed Joshua away for no good reason when he could have just made everything better. And it was all too painful for her. "Why don't I get my happy ending?" she hissed, getting to her feet and moving to the window seat where, unbeknownst to her, Joshua had sat less than an hour beforehand and thought the same thing.

* * *

"Damn!" Joshua yelled, nearly ripping his cloak as he held the fabric tight. "God damn it!"

"What happened?" asked Allisande, standing carefully out of the way, the tray of food resting on the floor behind her.

"She's being utterly unreasonable," Joshua answered, his face twisted in an angry grimace.

"Who, the woman who you were just kissing?" Allisande sighed, there was no reasoning with him in this mood.

"What does she expect me to do?" Joshua continued, ignoring the woman's request. "I can't just let this go. I can't just pretend that everything's alright now!"

Allisande rubbed her temples wearily. Weren't men supposed to mature with age?

"And now she won't even speak to me and this is somehow my fault!"

"Joshua!"

He spun around looking surprised. He had obviously forgotten she was there, which was rather odd as he had been answering her question to begin with. "Leave me alone, Allisande."

"If I did that, who would be here to tell you when you're acting like a fool?" She smiled gently at him.

"Am I?" he asked softly, staring at her with frightened eyes. "I don't even know anymore."

"Tell me what happened," she commanded, a gentleness in her tone that sounded as if she was dealing with a recalcitrant child.

So he told her. He explained the entire tale of how they had met, how he had fallen in love with her and, after swearing Allisande to secrecy, what had passed between her and Andrew. Allisande's heart went out to Lizzie, who had put up with so very much just to make it this far, though she had to admit that the girl was being uncommonly stubborn. Although perhaps that was what Joshua needed. He was certainly stubborn enough in his own right.

"Now what do I do?" Joshua asked, finally finishing his story.

"Now I know why I always hated your father," Allisande muttered. "He was truly evil." Joshua nodded his agreement. "Joshua, you are probably right about what to do with his bastard and, maybe if I were in her place, I would let you. But it's still her choice right now and you can't take the child away from her."

"But-"

"Have you ever carried a child?" Allisande enquired not-so-tactfully. "Because I have. And you don't have the faintest idea what that can do to someone. You heard it's voice and that was enough to startle you into stopping and even attempt to comfort it before you remembered yourself, am I right?" His shamefaced glance was enough of an answer. "Can you imagine what such feelings could cause a woman to do, even the most level headed woman out there."

"Which Lizzie most certainly isn't," Joshua murmured, smiling despite himself. Allisande shrugged; she hadn't said it.

"So, basically, it's a simple choice. It depends on whether it will be easier for you to live with your father's child or without her."

"Simple?" Joshua said disbelievingly. Allisande patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, little boy. You'll make the right choice…are you going to eat dinner by any chance?"

He shook his head, which only served to make her roll her eyes. "Goodnight, Allisande, and thank you."

"Goodnight, Joshua," was the reply as she lifted the tray with a practiced ease and slipped away. He watched her go, chewing his lip nervously as he pondered her last words to him.

"With my father's child or without her?" he murmured softly, letting them flow through his mind. Could he live everyday, knowing that the child his wife carried was not his? Could he pretend that their eldest child was legitimate and proper, all the while knowing that it came from the most ignominious of beginnings? Joshua knew that he couldn't; he just didn't have the strength to do that.

So that left two alternatives. Either leave her or find a way to make her listen. Joshua shook his head sadly. He knew her too well; she wouldn't give in to him, not on this issue.

"So I resign myself to life without her," he breathed. "It can't be so hard; I just pretend the last half an hour hasn't happened." He started laughing, a shrill, painful laugh that sounded worse than the most agonizing sobs.

Joshua sat on the floor for a good amount of time. The sun had long since set and he was still deep in thought, wondering how the hell he would have this conversation. He still loved her; that was undeniable. But he just couldn't live like that.

Joshua rose to his feet and stood by the door, a single tear glittering in the corner of his eye, refusing to fall. "It's now or never," he said, moving towards the door. But he still had one, insurmountable problem. What could he say?

"I'm sorry," he tried on himself, "I can't stay with you if you insist on having that bastard's son." And then he heard another voice in his head. The voice of a man screaming at his wife that he would kill the child in her womb. The sounds of hatred, anger and fear. He remembered crying out, though he didn't really know what he was scared of. He knew now. He had been scared of dying and that voice had been his uncle's. Joshua slid to the floor, his hands clenched.

"I can't be like him," he groaned, hugging himself. "It's not fair." But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny it. He was willing to do what his uncle hadn't even had the gall to do. "I survived," he said softly, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "And Maurice would have had every right to leave my mother; more, even, since she had chosen to sleep with Andrew." It was true, he didn't think he could live, knowing that his eldest son was actually his brother, but that didn't matter. He would do it, if only to prove that he was better than any of them. He was the good one, not the one who gave up.

Joshua rose shakily to his feet and walked to the door. "I love her," he whispered softly. "And for now, that will have to be enough."

He stepped quietly into the room. Lizzie was sitting on the window seat with her back to him. The room was dark, the fire burning low in the grate and the candles flickering as they reached the end of their wicks. He was about to call out to her, then thought better of the idea. Silent as a cat, he snuck up behind her. She was curled up in a small ball, her head resting on her bent knees.

"Lizzie," Joshua breathed in her ear, making her jump about half a mile into the air. She stared at her, breathing hard with her heart racing.

"Did I scare you?" he asked innocently and, before she could even react, he pulled her into an enormous hug. "I love you," he said his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. "No matter what, I'll always love you. And it'll take more than my father's illegitimate bastard to get rid of me." She looked up at him in shock and he gave her a crooked grin. "I never claimed to be tactful."

"No," she said in a small voice. "You didn't." Lizzie stood there, immobile, as Joshua rested her head atop her own. This was her choice right now, her turn to decide. She knew what Joshua was like and knew that this was his way of saying he was sorry. It would take a long time to forgive him for attacking her, but perhaps it would take just as long for him to forgive this choice she had made. Loving him wasn't about having everything perfect; it was about making everything perfect. And she would have to take the next step in fixing things. She closed her eyes and laid her head upon his chest. If he deserved anything, he deserved an explanation. And she couldn't stay mad at him, not when he was holding her so tight and stroking her hair like that.

"Joshua?" she said softly.

"Hmm?"

"Let me tell you a story." Joshua was silent as she calmly explained all about Diana and what had happened between them and how she had survived the fall. At least, the story began calmly enough. By the end, when Lizzie was trying to talk about Diana's death, she found that she had no words to say and no tears to cry. She lapsed into silence, reaching for Joshua's free hand. He let her take it, keeping the other palm pressed against her back and holding her close. He couldn't help but think that this explained a lot about what had gone on behind the scenes. So, he thought to himself, I have Andrew's child to thank for my Lizzie's life. The irony was not be lost on him. I suppose I owe the brat something for that. Well, I suppose it's time to deal with everything.

"You do realize we'll have to be married soon," Joshua said apropos of nothing. Lizzie was about to say something to the effect of "You still want me?" but thought better of it since that was rather obvious.

"How soon?" Lizzie asked, not really trusting herself to say much more.

"The end of this week sounds good," Joshua replied, his mouth twitching as he fought not to smile.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, feeling surprisingly calm. After all that had happened to far today, she doubted anything could faze her. "I suppose this dress will work as a gown," she mused. "And Diana would find it highly appropriate. But my family will be a little upset at the abrupt invitation."

"They will be far more upset if you carry a child to term less than eight months from your marriage," Joshua replied. "Children have been known to be born prematurely, but there is a limit to believability."

Lizzie sighed, knowing that he was right and understanding now why he had been so anxious. This was the best way to cover over what had happened. But she couldn't help but tease him. "And I thought you were just excited to wed me," she replied.

"It's an added bonus," he said solemnly before they both started to laugh. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Joshua grinned from ear to ear and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you," Lizzie whispered. "I love you more than anything in the entire world." Joshua smiled as he heard her and tilted her head up. "I love you too," he answered and bent his mouth down for a kiss. There were still many things that needed to be said and they would eventually be. But now was not the time. Now was the time for them to rebuild their relationship, themselves and, above all, to begin planning a wedding.

* * *

Joshua smoothed the front of his tailcoat for the tenth time in the past three minutes. Vincent, who was looking at him from under half lidded blue eyes, could barely conceal his amusement. Standing next to her Papa and looking as pretty as her namesake was a little girl with long, curly brown hair and enormous blue eyes.

"You look like a frightened, naïve boy of no more than thirteen, waiting to meet his sweetheart in a hidden castle corridor" Vincent observed, brushing his light hair out of his eyes.

"Yes, well, I'm getting married in fifteen minutes," Joshua replied, glaring at his brother-in-law. "I'm entitled to a little bit of nervousness."

"Why should you be nervous?" Rose asked gazing up adoringly at her uncle.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Joshua replied distractedly, making her pout. Vincent laughed and picked her up.

"I never really thanked you for lifting the spell," Vincent said suddenly.

"Compared to everything else," Joshua replied, trying to fix his collar, though there was nothing wrong with it, "That was easy."

Vincent snorted. "How did you do it?" he couldn't help but ask. Joshua just smiled secretively, so Vincent continued. "The last I saw of you, you were facing off against the most evil man of the century and then, as I was traveling in midair, I found myself and Rose changing back."

"So it ended with his death," Joshua mused, making Vincent raise an eyebrow in confusion. "I had hoped it would work that way."

"Will you still come and play with me?" Rose suddenly asked, tugging on Joshua's coat and effectively ending the conversation.

"Of course I will," he answered, stroking the little girl's hair. "This is only good bye for a little while."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He took her hand and solemnly kissed it, making her smile delightedly.

"I can't wait to see you with children," Vincent teased. Joshua pulled a face, which Vincent, fortunately, misinterpreted. "Come on, they're not so terrible!" Joshua didn't reply. The child inside his wife-to-be was still a sore topic and would, undoubtedly, remain one for a long time. And he was going to have to pretend to love it as well as he would love his own. The memory of that voice still stuck with him and he couldn't help but wonder if he had cried in just the same manner when Diana had carried him. The other problem, one he was nowhere near ready to face, was the undeniable fact that Lizzie would not let him do more than kiss her. He didn't have to ask, he simply knew. The scars Andrew had left ran deep and Joshua had resigned himself to years of fighting her fears before there was even a chance of her conceiving again.

"Joshua," Vincent said suddenly, snapping the younger man out of his reverie. "Hurry up or you'll be late for your own wedding." Joshua straightened up and shut his eyes, wondering what in hell had possessed him to do this.

Vincent took his arm and Joshua allowed his brother-in-law to lead him to the altar. They had been standing in the church outside Andrew's summer castle, a place that was nigh unused during his father's tenure. Joshua liked it, the place was open and comparatively uncorrupted. More to the point, Lizzie liked it and Joshua would have brought the moon down from the sky had he thought it would make her happy.

The groom stood by the altar, battling an overwhelming urge to bite his nails. His eyes were locked on the aisle as the flower girl walked with slow, deliberate steps, scattering roses before her. He caught Vincent's proud smile as he watched his daughter and wondered if he would ever watch a child of his own like that. And then Lizzie entered the room and Joshua forgot everything else.

She was dressed in the long, silver gown Diana had given her. Her hair was pulled carefully back into a braided bun with a few wisps left down to frame her face. She wore a lovely veil that flowed behind her like a train. It was only with the greatest of effort that Joshua kept his jaw from dropping. She was smiling shyly at him and he honestly thought his heart might just burst.

The rest of the service passed as a blur for both of them. The only clear memory Lizzie could summon up was that of Joshua placing the thin gold band on her finger and she stared at it, seeing the emeralds and sapphires that intertwined to form both an E and a J. She could barely even focus on her family, who had come all the way to England to be at her wedding. She only had eyes for the man before her, dressed immaculately in a deep green tailcoat with a black satin vest underneath and a fine silken shirt with ruffles at the sleeves and collar. He wore black breeches and supple leather boots that made him look far too attractive. His golden hair was tied back and he stood proud, gazing out at the multitudes in front of them. Most of Joshua's new vassals were there, deeming this a wise way to win the heart of their new Duke. Maurice was there as well, not particularly pleased but gracious in conceding that Joshua had potential.

"Will you kiss me now?" Joshua asked softly, startling Lizzie. The entire ceremony had happened and she had barely even noticed, she had been too busy staring at her husband. She looked at him and took his hand in her own.

"Of course I will," she replied, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Not that I ever doubted you," he breathed, nuzzling her nose for a moment before his lips found hers and their appreciative audience began to cheer.

Never forget this moment, Lizzie thought to herself. Her hands slipped around his neck and he literally lifted her off her feet. It cannot get any better than this.

_**T.B.C…sort of **_

A/N – For those of you who read a slightly different version of this before, I apologize. Soofija, wonderful child that she is, pointed out that things did move a little too fast. So I did a little bit of fixing up and added a little bit of a push for Joshua to forgive her. I hope it's better. And, if you didn't read the original, well, it's not such a loss. Anyway…

2nd A/N – I was tempted to end it here; but this ending is so very… final. And I hate ending with a wedding, it's too cheesy. And I don't want to let go of these characters… So there will be an epilogue soon, hopefully by the weekend, but I make no promises. And I know this took a week to post, I've been a little pressed for time and fanfiction had the login thingy down for two days so that didn't help. (I love how I've gone from apologizing for six months to apologizing for a week). But off the topic of the apologies, I have to thank my wonderful reviewers.

First of all, Soofija, you are truly amazing and I love you so much for always reading so quickly (hence I get things done faster). I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I'm pleased I've finally convinced somebody that just because the brat is the spawn of satan, it's not evil in and of itself. Though it might be, if I'm desperate for a sequel :grins sheepishly:. Yeah, um, I do agree with the gross family relationships (brother/father/whatever) but Andrew doesn't always think of others when he acts, if you haven't noticed. I don't know how I'm going to solve this, if I am. I might just leave it as the Gilld family skeleton in the closet. But you give me far too much credit – just because they're my characters doesn't mean I control them!

Hello again, Kate. Glad to see you haven't abandoned me yet. Anyway, your approval of Lizzie's destruction of evil bastard is greatly appreciated; she is rather fun when she's fighting. And there should be more on Rose, if no one else. She seems rather cute and I do like her. But it would just take too long for her to remain a beast for 14 years. Her father did it, true, but he deserved it. And I probably should have warned you, the end of the story does focus more on Joshua and Lizzie's relationship than anything else. Oh well, they are cute too.

Short stef, I'll forgive you this time for missing a chapter, but don't let me down again. Is that enough of a guilt trip? And yeah, it was a roller coaster. God, Joshua can be so stubborn sometimes! But Lizzie won this battle; I like the baby too much to let it die, I'm too big a softie sometimes.

NEW REVIEWERS! You have no idea how happy you make me. So, chapter eighteen is dedicated to Leanne, who asked so nicely for it, and Anarea who called my story wonderful.

Okay, so the painfully long author's note is up and now, on to the epilogue!

Love you all!

Levana (Damian)


	19. Epilogue The Circle of Life

_**Epilogue**_

It was a dark, moonless night. The road seemed empty, with only the sound of the wind whistling through the trees and the forlorn howl of a lonely wolf to break the silence of midnight. As time went on, however, there was the noise of hoof beats pounding on the road as a horse and rider galloped into view. The animal was a tall, broad-chested steed, black as the night sky with a mane as silver as the moon. The rider was wrapped in a forest green cloak and wore a large feathered hat on his head that, by all the laws of nature, should not have stayed on. The man rode as fast as he could, crouched low on the horse's back. He was anxious to get back, to return to his wife and the child he knew was being born. Joshua spurred the horse on, annoyed at all the twists of fate that had conspired to take him from home right now, not to mention that drained his magic so he couldn't even fly.

The road stretched onward before the rider and Joshua rode faster, willing the steed to defy gravity itself to bring him back.

* * *

Lizzie curled up in her bed, cradling a tiny child to her chest. That had to be the most painful experience she had ever gone through. She had been warned by Belle, who was now carrying another child of her own, that birth was not a pleasant experience, but she had not realized just how agonizing it was. Her sister-in-law and Gabrielle had both come to comfort her and provide her with moral support, but she had not enjoyed the ordeal at all. Lizzie smiled to think of how many times her little sister had covered her ears, both from the content and the volume of what she was saying. But it didn't matter now. As soon as the midwife had laid the baby in her arms, she had forgotten everything. All the birth pangs, travails and even the reason this child was born in the first place had all disappeared from her mind. This little one was perfect, with dark red hair and pale blue eyes that had gazed into Lizzie's own. She sighed and stroked the soft head, marveling at the feel of it. The baby had already eaten its first meal and was now cuddled up to its mother, sleeping peacefully. Lizzie couldn't take her eyes off of it. The child was the most precious thing she had ever seen, perfectly formed and absolutely beautiful, the fact that it looked like a shriveled red prune notwithstanding.

"You look happy," Belle observed, smiling at her sister-in-law.

"I am," Lizzie answered. "Although Joshua has a lot to answer for when he gets back." Belle laughed.

"Shall I yell at him for you?" Gabrielle asked innocently.

"No," Lizzie replied with a smile. "I've grown quite good at that." The three women smiled at one another before Gabrielle spoke again.

"May I?" she said softly, gesturing towards the baby.

"If you promise to be very careful," was Lizzie's answer. "I slaved for eight months to create this thing; I won't have you nullify my work before I can even show it off to my husband."

"I promise not to let any harm come to it," Gabrielle answered solemnly. Lizzie bit back a smile.

"Very well then." Gabrielle held out her hands and Lizzie carefully set the baby in them and repositioned her sister's hands to make sure the head was supported and that the little one was comfortable. Gabrielle looked at the infant in surprise.

"You are rather ugly, aren't you," she said affectionately. "Perhaps you take after your mother, then." Lizzie glared at her older sister, though she was more amused than anything else. "I bet you'll be beautiful when you're older, though," Gabrielle continued, loving her sister's child since she did not have one of her own yet.

"What an unusually healthy infant," Belle remarked low in Lizzie's ear so that Gabrielle couldn't hear. "Especially for one born so early."

Lizzie sighed; she had known this would be coming. "I know," she answered. "I'm beginning to think I should have listened to Joshua." Belle raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "He warned me that using magic on infants in the womb was not a good idea, but I couldn't help but perform a few spells, just to make sure the baby would be safe and healthy." Lizzie shrugged. "Evidently they worked."

Belle nodded. "He was right. There will be those who will accuse you of having conceived this child before you were married."

"I know," Lizzie answered. "And the worst part is, I will have to tell Joshua he was right. It is so galling when that happens."

"Don't worry," Belle replied with a mischievous smile. "I doubt it happens all that often."

"Of course not. He is still a man, after all, albeit a wonderful one."

Gabrielle brought the baby back to Lizzie, overhearing their last words. "It is a pity Joshua couldn't be here."

Lizzie nodded. "I know," she said softly. "I would give a lot to see him right now."

"You should get some rest," Belle said, laying a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Birthing is quite a tiring process."

"I can tell," Lizzie answered dryly as she lifted the child and wrapped her arms back around the small form, cuddling it close once again.

Gabrielle bent over and kissed her sister's forehead. "Good night Lizzie."

"Good night, Gabrielle. When you see your sister, do tell her that my child is far more beautiful than hers will be when it is born." Gabrielle laughed and practically skipped out of the room.

"Sleep well, my sister," Belle said. "I'm glad my terrible brother married you."

"I'm glad I married your terrible brother," was the immediate reply.

Belle gently tied Lizzie's hair back so it didn't stick to her face. "Do be serious. The next best thing to having a sister is having a sister-in-law like you."

Lizzie smiled and turned slightly pink. "You flatter me. But I'm glad you feel that way and I'm glad that we are now sisters." They smiled at one another, kindred spirits, and Belle left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Well," Lizzie said, looking down at the baby. "It's just the two of us now. I must say, you were definitely not what I was expecting. Perhaps I was thinking you would be more like your father. Although I do believe your older brother will be pleased. You'll like him, even though you'll call him Papa. You were definitely the most frightening experience of my life, but I suppose I'm glad you were born. You were too sweet to kill, which doesn't bode well for your future ability to wrap your parents around your little finger." Lizzie gently lifted one of the waving fists and let the baby hold on to her pinkie. "You are adorable, but you know that already. I wonder how much you know about your roots. It would be better if you never found out, better if we could succeed in this charade we have planned." Lizzie hugged the baby gently and buried her face against the soft hair. She had been terrified of this day for so long, and now it was over. She had spent the last eight months wondering whether she had been right to choose as she had, wondering whether it was worth seeing the pain in her husband's eyes every time she shied away from him, every time he gazed at her burgeoning stomach. And he never condemned her, never pleaded with her to change her mind. He just held her when she cried and comforted her when she was scared and made fun of her when she suddenly developed a lust for roast beef at four in the morning. She had asked him, a few months ago, whether he thought she had chosen correctly or not. He hadn't answered, he had just shrugged and said that he doubted it could be any other way. Looking down at the infant sleeping peacefully beside her, Lizzie knew he was right. "When I look at you," she whispered to the baby, "It almost seems worth all the pain."

Lizzie fell asleep with the baby held close and the blankets pulled up high around them both.

* * *

Joshua rode through the gates of his castle as if the Wild Hunt was behind him. He dismounted before the horse had stopped moving and stabled his horse with a fierce impatience that was only made worse by the animal's attempt to eat his hair, which it mistook for straw. Storming off, Joshua entered the castle and began running up the enormous marble staircase towards his wife's room. As he reached the upper floor, he nearly collided with Belle and Gabrielle, who were speaking animatedly on the stairwell. Joshua skidded to a halt and, with wild eyes, spoke to them.

"Is she alright?" he asked, breathing heavily. Gabrielle laughed at him, but quickly covered her mouth to hide it.

"She's fine," Belle answered soothingly. "She's a strong girl and the ordeal wasn't too traumatic." For the first time in about a week, Joshua relaxed, though he had yet to catch his breath from the long, arduous ride.

"I'm going up to see her," he said, about to continue his fast paced ascent to her room.

"No you're not," Belle answered. Joshua froze and turned to look at her, a stubborn glint in his eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked softly.

"She's finally fallen asleep and the worst thing you could do to her right now would be to wake her up. She needs to rest."

Joshua's shoulders sagged. "I know," he said, smiling sadly at his older sister. "But I just want to see her again…make sure she's really okay."

"Let's let him," said Gabrielle.

Belle sighed. "Well, I suppose. You know where you're going." Joshua took off, nearly running down the halls. "Don't wake her up!"

"I won't," he shouted back, hurrying out of earshot and towards his wife.

Joshua finally skidded to a halt in front of the door to her room. It was really their room, since it was his role to go to her at night and not the other way around, but he was willing to relinquish all claim to it, as far as the mess of afterbirth was concerned. He felt a sharp pang of regret; though he didn't particularly want to see a child being born, he had not wanted to miss this momentous occasion, especially because he knew that his support would have meant much to her. But Belle had said that she was fine and his sister was not in the habit of lying about important things.

He pushed open the door, slipping silently inside and depositing his hat and cloak on one of the chairs, telling himself that someone would put then away later. He strode through the next doorway and into his wife's bedroom, stopping short once he was through the opening. Lizzie was curled up in bed, her hair pulled back and delicately framing her face. She looked exhausted but peaceful and Joshua's heart did a funny little flip-flop motion. He crept closer, feeling decidedly guilty. Next to her, cradled in her arms, was a tiny little form with a shock of red hair. Joshua knelt down to get a closer look and found himself meeting a pair of half lidded, sleepy blue eyes.

"You were supposed to be asleep," he said to his wife with mock severity.

"You were supposed to be home two days ago," Lizzie replied, yawning in the middle.

"I know," he replied, reaching out and touching her cheek. "I had meant to be back. How do you feel?"

Lizzie paused for a moment. "Sore," she answered finally. "And strange. But happy."

"Good," Joshua replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "May I hold him?" Lizzie snickered, but carefully laid the child in it's father's arms. "What's so funny?" he asked as he stared down at the beautiful baby in his arms.

"That you automatically assumed she was a boy."

Joshua's jaw dropped. "It's a girl?" he nearly yelped. "Are you sure?"

"I do know the difference between male and female anatomy," Lizzie answered dryly.

"That's not what I meant," he answered, cradling his daughter. "I just can't imagine Andrew allowing a child of his to be born female."

"Neither can I," Lizzie answered, "But I can't argue with facts."

"No," Joshua agreed, "You can't." He looked down at the small person in his arms. The little girl was snuggled up to him, her mouth making tiny sucking motions as she slept. Of all the things he had been expecting, this wasn't one of them. "Were we right?" he whispered, nuzzling the soft head. "Are you worth it?"

"We'll just have to find out," Lizzie answered, for she had been listening closely to his words.

Joshua stretched out on the bed and placed the baby back in her mother's arms. He held Lizzie close and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She laid her head against his chest and sighed contentedly.

"What shall we name her?" Joshua asked. Lizzie sighed tiredly.

"I don't know," she replied sleepily. "Pick something you like."

"Something meaningful though," Joshua mused. "But not silly, like some sort of virtue."

"Chastity's a nice name," Lizzie joked, making her husband groan. He was, however, slightly pleased that after nine months, she was able to make light of that which had happened.

"How about Prudence?" Joshua suggested. "A way to counteract the traits she'll inherit from you."

"We could just name her Cornucopia." They both laughed and gave up on the naming for a little while.

As Lizzie was drifting off to sleep, she had an idea. "Love," she said, elbowing Joshua who was already asleep, still dressed and sitting on top of the covers.

"Hmm?"

"What about Diana?"

"What about her?"

"As a name, you silly man." Joshua looked from Lizzie to the baby, mulling over her suggestion.

"I like it," he said. "It is rather fitting, after all." Lizzie nodded. "Very well," he said, addressing the girl who he had sworn to raise as his own. "Your new name is Diana." Lizzie entwined one of her hands in his own and drifted off to sleep. Joshua stayed awake a while longer, gazing at the little girl. "You had better be worth all this, little one."

The baby opened her startling blue eyes and stared at her father. Joshua looked back into those solemn eyes. "Diana, welcome to the world."

_**The End**_

A/N – There! It's done! Hold on a moment (runs around room screaming at top of lungs for a few minutes while friends stare at her in confusion). Okay, that's much better. Sorry, I'm just a little shocked I finally finished this. It's only taken me, what, three years? Anyway, I'm going to leave you all here, since it makes a nice happy ending and leaves room for (gasp) a sequel. But I'm not promising one, although I do have a few ideas. And, if I do one, don't get insulted if I use a different fairy tale as a prototype. That might be a problem though, since all fairy tale mothers are dead and I like Lizzie. Oh well. If you want to find out if/when a sequel appears, just make a note of it in a review and I'll tell you. Speaking of which…

Soofija – Thank you for constructively criticizing (and reviewing, but that kinda goes unsaid). You were right, it did go really fast. I tried to go back and fix it a bit, but tell me what you think. And I like the baby too much now, we're stuck with her. She's going to be cute though… perhaps a bit of a monster child, but cute. Her parents are awesome, in any case. And I apologize for making you wait so anxiously, but remember that if I'm in a really hot place, I don't think they have working computers. (Although the computer room I'm in right now is like a sauna).

Shortstef – All good things must come to an end, otherwise I run out of plot devices. And I would promise to start something new soon, but I don't know. I do have a few things up on Fanfiction though. If you value your life, do NOT read Happily Ever After (still must take down and reedit, but cannot be bothered to), but the two fairy tale rewrites aren't bad. So that might tide you over until I decide about a sequel to this. And of course there's a happy ending; I can't leave them miserable!

Kate – Not a bad idea. Joshua as Daddy…hmm. And thank you for your compliments about my writing, I truly appreciate it. It seems I don't have much of a choice about the sequel. I'll see what I can do. And if it does get written, I will definitely tell you.

Annacordelia – Yay! Welcome to the long, thank you of the author's note. And I'm glad you came back and reviewed, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside/

Well, people, this is it. Until next story. And if you review here, even if I don't write you a thank you paragraph, you have still done a very good deed and fed the poor muse so that it can create more. Thank you all and I love you tons (sniffles). Bbye!

Levana (Damian)


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